


PRINCESSMANIA XXI

by Hemogobbler



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hurt, Modern Etheria, Pro-Wrestling AU, Wrestling, adora has anxiety and catra is sad, big televised fights, business queen angella, but they love each other a lot and are stars!!, fake-real fighting, heartfelt melodrama, scummy chairman hordak, sexual tension as a result of grappling, with all the furries and magic you know and love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 07:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18633811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hemogobbler/pseuds/Hemogobbler
Summary: In the ring, few could stand against She-Ra like Wildcat. Though it was something more than primal fury that kept her coming back for the princess. Out of the ring, Adora is hounded by thoughts of Catra; of what was, and what could still be, if they fight for it.





	1. A Princess, Deposed

“Get up, Adora!”

 

Catra’s voice came faintly as Adora drowned in noise from all corners.

 

Getting up was always the worst part. Her head pounded, a bell ringing for every time her head had hit the floor. She could’ve sworn it had broken through the padding with Catra’s last [DDT](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m8hQQpiQk6s). Adora wiped hair away and saw Catra - crouching low, ready to spring again.

 

“Better idea: you help me up - they’ll go nuts!” Adora shouted.

 

The crowd was a permanent wave of sound, made turbulent by Wildcat’s hand. The fans wanted Adora to lose: they cheered when she got hit and booed when she got back up. ‘Wildcat’ was being chanted, continuous, and it stayed in Adora’s head. She bottled her pride, unable to imagine a better revolutionary than her partner.

 

Wildcat’s body surged with the swell of heavy breathing, but Adora knew Catra had plenty left in the tank. It was a show, like so many of their actions that had, over the years, become unconscious displays of power and exaggerated emotion for the benefit of the audience. Adora, however, was slow to catch on that there was nothing overstated in this match: She-Ra should’ve won about a dozen suplexes ago.

 

“ _Good one,_  Adora,” Lavishly condescending, digging through the bedlam of a sellout stadium directly into her ears, “And when I claw your eyes out after? _Chaos_.”

 

Catra snarled and held her hands up, beckoning with her claws for more glory as she turned in place so everyone got a piece of her. She was right, and Adora didn’t trust her to hold back anymore. Her jet black nails had already gone past her self-imposed limit and were tipped with blood.

 

Gradually, Adora rose, but her heavy, burning arms wore her down. Her body failed and she came crashing to one knee - which the crowd ate up. They took it and ran with it for the hopes of every soul in the arena and for those watching at home.

 

It was decided: the only thing magical enough to stop a war was a wedding.

 

Cheering exploded from all sides and for one stretched breath cameras drowned out the stage in white. Sea Hawk was caught in the flash, kneeling atop his announcer’s table and crying in reverence. He cast an immortal, immaculate shadow on the ring, that he yet claims will remain until the day his own princess finds it, returns it, and makes him whole.

 

Adora could see the headlines, ‘She-Ra claws back victory from Wildcat with a last-ditch marriage proposal!’ or more likely, ‘Wildcat indicted for live murder as She-Ra is clawed to a bloody mess!’ because this was a horrible accident and Catra would _not go for this._

 

 _I should’ve brought a ring,_ Adora thought.

 

Catra’s tail responded with a wiggle, and she dropped her low stance. She knew that, now, with so many eyes on them, she’d need to respond with the melodrama appropriate to the situation. Swift Wind answered the call and quickly deposited a mic in the center of the ring for Catra to pick up. Then, he flew back to the rafters - this was their stage.

 

“Oh, Adora! Oh my gosh, Adora! I’m so -- ” She began, sadistically gleeful, in a tone surely too sweet to be the real Catra as she clutched her heart.

 

“OH, WAIT -- I’M SORRY -- _SHE-RA!_ ” Wildcat growled at the name and spat.

 

A generous portion of the audience booed and waved their signs: “#HordeMercs4Life”, _“You promised!”_ and “KISS!”

 

“Yeah, that’s the kinda person you are, turns out. You want me back now but you were more than happy to leave me behind at the chance of A CROWN AND A COMPANY CAR!”

 

The crowd was venomous, and the only thing that could make She-Ra feel small. They were a sharp knife, easy to flip, and one which Wildcat always held firmer. She turned it against Adora, who lost her shield to the galaxy of lights condemning her.

 

“The Horde meant nothing to you? _Fine,_ ” Wildcat seethed, but her claws slinked back in. “But us? Everything we did together? How could you...?”

 

Wildcat lost her growl. She went still and her voice faded away as the mic got more distance from her. She stared at Adora, who looked like a religious statue, knelt down and taking in everything with her mellow eyes, unmoving. Catra pulled the mic back to her mouth, growing more animated.

 

“Yeah, poster girl, you were always meant for greater things, to be better than me - but, hey, guess what, Adora? It doesn’t look like that from where I’m standing. Did you really think, all those years, that it was _me_ holding _you_ back?”

 

Adora shook her head so slightly in her exhaustion that she wasn’t sure the cameras would pick it up. It didn’t matter, though: it wasn’t for them. Her head dipped and the tiara fell off, as if on cue.

 

“TELL ME I WAS HOLDING YOU BACK!”

 

Catra shrieked, and Adora saw the flash of tears in her friend’s eyes blinked out of existence. Her new eyes shone through, holding wrath and bitterness in each color, and they rested on Adora. The crowd quietened, listening closer.

 

Wildcat approached her, sized her up with disgust, and held the mic above her head, demanding that she stand.

 

Adora looked worn without her flowing extensions and was back to being the lowly mortal that waited to greet her in the mirror by the end of every performance.

 

The white skirt around her shorts was all but ripped to shreds, and scarcely any gold remained on her outfit, apparently targeted by Catra in an attempt to strip the royalty from her. Her bracers were long gone, and her shoulder pads were a wreck, scattered in bits on the ground.

 

It was like princess orientation before the montage, back when she had walked in, straight from the gym in her cheap, sweaty training vest. She’ll never forget how Angella had to turn away to pinch her nose.

 

She pulled off the She-Ra Shoes, awful creations that gave her height at the cost of constant pain in just about all sections of her feet, and unsteadily rose. Adora followed the red and black panther-spotted leotard upwards to her furious eyes. Catra’s stance was ferocious like one wrong word would end it all. Adora always struggled to speak to Wildcat.

 

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you were nothing, Catra. This…” She pointed to the tattered remains of her princess persona strewn on the ground, “...All happened so fast.”

 

The atmosphere was charged, as if any second the air would ignite and the arena would burn down around them. It went still, save for the occasional photo that would risk a spark in the abyss.

 

“It’s not an excuse, but, I need you to know something.”

 

Catra saw the same hope for the future in Adora’s eyes when they first began wrestling.

 

Nervous and careful with each other, to familiar and crazy. Partners in crime, driven to reap what the world owed them. When they were planning their characters and training and were convinced that together, they would make something of the career that they had shared for so long, of the two half-lives that only became one in the ring, and Adora wanted to promise her more this time.

 

“I l -- ”

 

“ _NO_!”

 

Catra screamed into the mic to blow out the audio and swatted it to the ground.

 

“You don’t get to do that, Adora! To one-up me like that front of all these people! _How dare you_ pretend to give a shit about me, just to win, again!”

 

“ _I care!_ Of course, I care! It’s - it’s Hordak who doesn’t, pitting you against me and making you do all these ridiculous stunts! You won’t walk away from a match one of these days, Catra, and Hordak’ll cash you a cheque and move on, wipe his hands free of you.”

 

“Reminds me of someone I knew.”

 

Adora felt her frustration with Catra go cold, a lasting hole in her stomach. Catra came close.

 

“I would’ve come back. It’s over, Adora.”

 

Adora lost hope; she could find no second wind to keep fighting with.

 

Catra held her cheek for the last time, and Adora knew what was coming. This part, at least, was planned. Catra whirled around behind Adora, back to back, and held her claws over her shoulders, touching the nape of Adora’s neck. Catra dropped to the ground, raking her nails all the way down, and felt the ring quake as Adora fell to her knees, a thunderclap resounding through the arena, with the blood capsule stored at her back raining its contents over them.

 

There they sat, facing away from each other, in a moment of stopped time. The center of the ring made a holy site, consecrated in red food coloring and a dash of the genuine thing. Their rivalry a lesson for generations of future wrestlers on how to sell, and how not to mistake the indescribable connection with your partner for love.

 

Adora let her body fall, and, after a moment of coming to terms with the imminent win, Catra turned to pin Adora. Catra flipped her onto her back and raised her leg. Swift Wind hit the ground and counted her down.

 

_1_

 

_‘I DON’T BELIEVE IT!’_

 

Sea Hawk found his mic, and couldn’t be muted, even by the fans that were losing their minds, as he echoed the announcement throughout the arena.

 

“Hey, Adora,” Catra purred on top of Adora, stretching her leg as far up as it would go and watched her squirm in spite of her exhaustion.

 

_2_

 

_‘MY FRIENDS, COULD THIS BE IT?’_

 

“How’s it feel?” Her nails extended, breaking through Adora’s calves.

 

_3_

 

_Ding ding ding._

 

_‘WILDCAT HAS DETHRONED SHE-RA! BY PINFALL, CATRA IS THE NEW ETHERIAN PRINCESS WRESTLING CHAMPION!’_

 

Sea Hawk’s voice carried a crescendo beautifully, he would add, when his future children were sure to ask him about the day the face of wrestling in Etheria changed forever. How he had the privilege of not only being there to spectate but in the very ring to deliver the announcement of the _dawn of a new era._ Etheria’s Princess Wrestling champ who was not a princess - _ludicrous!_ \- most would say. But Sea Hawk knew he was no liar and so the otherworldly event that would forever cling to the stalactites of his great mind most certainly did happen.

 

But for the ladies in the ring, it managed to be even more dramatic. Their relationship was locking in on the turn Adora had made with her departure from the Fright Zone a year ago: their youth gone, their lovable duo damned to professional separation.

 

Also, it was probably a crime Catra just did, but it wasn’t on Adora to figure that out.

 

 

* * *

  


 

“This is a breach of our contract, Hordak.”

 

Angella was furious but was well-practiced at keeping her composure in the face of her business partners.

 

She spoke clearly, with a rich, fine accent that made her known as the Executive Queen. Lead promotor for Bright Moon’s Princess Alliance, a federation that was there at the beginning of wrestling, she was determined not to have her industry tarnished by the underhanded tactics of Hordak - and the Fright Zone in general - for who deceit was second-nature. She wore a pristine white suit-dress, with platinum-tinted accents and accessories that made her easy to spot in a crowd and a visual hazard in a hall of mirrors.

 

Hordak, on the contrary, was so informal and sly that it took tremendous willpower to take the reigns of the conversation from him. Everyone was his best friend and had the potential of conveniently profiting off of whatever plan he was in the midst of developing. With him, you’d find yourself involved in a scheme that you had committed to years prior, the rewards of which were only now surfacing. And you’d be pleasantly informed that the prospects of your happiness and general goals in life were that much closer today, here in his office.

 

His suit jacket was well-worn and hung from the back of his chair, and his dark, red tie hung loosely from the collar of his navy shirt. His face was scarred with lines that indicated he was a fighter, of some kind, once. Angella thought she saw the rat in him, with his crooked nose and bleak, black eyes. Dynamos of showbiz and the entertainment industry, she could handle, but you never knew where you stood with a rat, especially one as eager, and hitherto unknown to her, as Hordak.

 

“Yes, you are right, of course, it is a breach. I sincerely apologize. If you want to run it back, then the damage is mine to pay. I will admit fault and you can take as big a slice as you want from this sizable pie I’ve made for us.

 

He had a charming voice, husky and dark. Angella said nothing and Hordak continued.

 

“Angella, tell me, have you ever seen _anything_ like this?”

 

His wall lit up with holograms of charts depicting ticket sales, views, clicks, and however else Etherians

 

“Have you ever seen a response of this caliber to any of your past publicity stunts? She-Ra is defeated. By her former partner and is she - isn’t she - love interest? Tell me it’s not the juiciest thing you’ve ever heard?”

 

“Publicity stunts?” Angella repeated, offended. Hordak held his hands up in a show of apologies.

 

Angella was careful to give no quarter, though the Princess Alliance had been caught in a PR storm since the match ended a half-hour ago. She wanted to be back in Bright Moon, shaping the discord at its source, but found herself with Hordak, conveniently, on further business. All their future shows were sold out, and diehard fans wanted to see more joint events with the Fright Zone ever since Catra began storming her way to the top.

 

“Catra is not a princess,” Angella stated.

 

“Then crown her, if you like. A big song and dance of a ceremony would really twist the knife, though, no? Personally, I think she’s better off as the anarchist! Her rebellious cause lost, even to herself, as she goes feral and tears down the pillars of society as we know it!”

 

Angella detested his bullshit but couldn’t help admiring his penchant for the dramatic.

 

Her daughter Glimmer was a rowdy wrestler, but not a violent one like Catra. The audience knew what they preferred, even if the sight of Glimmer teleporting into an elbow drop, with that cocky smile on her face, was always number one to Angella. Her breath would stop and she would rise to her feet with applause - the glitter princess was the only one who could invoke in Angella the passion of the people.

 

“No, you are correct,” Angella acquiesced. “A war across borders is cinematic and compelling. A civil war amongst princesses simply doesn’t compare. I will return to Bright Moon and inform Adora of her rematch here in the Fright Zone.”

 

Hordak sat forward, giving her all of his attention, as he awaited the terms. The charts on his wall faded away and in their place stayed a real, warrior’s white skull mask. A relic from an ancient war, it studied Angella from its perch above Hordak.

 

“She will win, Hordak, or you will lose everything. I guarantee it. The belt and crown of a wrestling princess is and will remain, an enduring symbol of the sport and its spectacle. It will return to a princess. If - as it must do eventually - the era is to change, it will not be done through one illicit fight, and the crown will not be destroyed overnight. We can discuss this further, after you’ve proven your dedication to the sport, rather than yourself.”

 

Hordak looked content, tapping his fingers together and nodding.

 

“Very well, my Queen, once more your wisdom shines through. I am honored and forever grateful for the chance to work by your side in the telling of an age-old narrative.”

 

“Don’t push it, Hordak.”

 

Angella found herself smiling, and Hordak laughed.

 

“My apologies. I suppose it’s the company we keep? In the ring, each word is a promise and every movement a prophecy. It’s infectious.”

 

Angella nodded, preparing to leave, before Hordak, with sincere curiosity, added:

 

“One more thing, Angella, if you would be so kind as to help me understand?”

 

Angella raised an eyebrow.

 

“Would you, perhaps, happen to know the true nature of our stars’ relationship?”

 

Hordak was satisfied with her answer, though they were only her best guesses as a mother and someone who had loved and lost, as it helped to build a picture of Adora’s development since she had left the Fright Zone.

 

He had known his two wrestlers since adolescence, and the connection between them was their greatest strength growing up. The split had done something special, he knew, and he looked forward to seeing which of his stars would push themselves harder, and in what direction.

 

When Angella had departed and Beatrix entered, he gave her his best guess. She didn’t agree, which only made him certain. He told his marketing team it was going to be all hands on deck for the next week and phoned a performer to ask about borrowing something. She readily agreed in exchange for some time in the ring with Adora too.


	2. Backstage

Back in the shower area of the Bright Moon arena’s locker room, Adora was still washing the red from her hair. Her limbs, neck, and pride all hurt; she was thankful it was the end of a season, and had little else ahead of her, especially now.

 

The water was far too hot, but it was the only thing that got close to blitzing the sticky red stuff free. Always one to spend too long in the shower, Adora wanted to believe it helped shed the skin of her character, and make her real again, but it only burned her skin and encouraged her mind to play back the fight.

 

How did Adora not see it coming, with Catra on the defensive for so long? Catra didn’t defend. A dodge here and there, or a reversal into a _nasty_ [Irish whip](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2dI-P71m-8), but otherwise Catra fed on taking hits. She would come back faster and angrier each time; the roar of the fans would build her back up stronger, making sure that Adora pays for every one of her signature throws and grapples.

 

She was buying time, obviously. Focusing all of Adora’s energy into a comeback of her own that literally rocked the foundations of the ring. Adora heard all the times she had got a face full of its specially designed floor and felt it reverberate through her body. The way Catra used Adora’s own weight against her was an attack in itself. No one could impact her like her. She would know immediately what to expect from a left-foot-forward, extravagant roll of the right elbow - classic powerhouse Adora, showboating with a grand wind up to a haymaker.

 

Until today, Catra would’ve let such a crowd-pleaser hit her. Not that they ever fought each other competitively back when they were still a tag-team. The occasional backstage scuffle was recorded to promote how hot-blooded the Horde Mercs were, but otherwise, it was only training in which they went head to head, where they made the most of their complementary styles of wrestling in order to grow stronger together.

 

Adora knew there was more to it than that. They just fit. She was high-strung at the best of times, whereas Catra never failed to be herself - at ease, at least on the outside, and always ready, eager, to flip the script should it promise to excite everyone and give her the attention she deserved as a naturally gifted athlete. They had worked well together, trusted each other, and had fun in the process of turning their career into a highlight reel to be passed down the ages.

 

Adora didn’t think she’d be able to watch such things anymore; her chest hurt when she thought about how even after spending most of their lives together, their friendship was fracturing. It was made evident by the very real bite marks in her leg and the bruises on her shoulders.

 

Catra never used to put the cheering above Adora’s safety. Catra would communicate any last-second changes as fast as she could; Adora would adapt; their momentum carried through, shook the ring, and they’d walk away together having raised the bar for the next competitors. Since Adora had been recruited into the Princess Alliance a year ago, in each fight Catra made sure to remind her she wasn’t a princess. Adora had a collection of scars from where Catra had gone off-script and wondered if Catra had any of her own.

 

When they were teenagers, they were told to just ‘go for it’ and figure out a flow. They’d perform fantastic dances, trading limbs without music, without an audience, with only the unspoken harmony between them to rely on. But Beatrix, also known as the retired wrestling legend, Shadow Weaver, wanted to see blood. Adora didn’t want to steamroll the newbie, and Catra didn’t want to shake the pedestal Adora was being groomed for, so they were tame with each other at first.

 

Kindness never went unpunished with their teacher, though, and Catra was usually the one on the receiving end. Adora would be told to lift her in a [stalling vertical suplex:](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NRMIj3um2ik) locking her head under an arm, draping Catra’s over her shoulder, and holding her upside down for as long as she could as the blood pooled to her head. Time dragged. Only when Shadow Weaver said so could Adora slam her down. It made them both strong in different ways.

 

“Again, with hatred, like this is the end of a war,” Beatrix would say, voice crackling. She took great delight in immersing herself in the fiction. “The audience must _despise_ one of you, and put all their hopes in the other.”

 

They listened and caused each other tremendous pain in their training. Back then it was the only way to earn a spot in Hordak’s vision of the future. Adora had nothing, nobody else, and Catra wouldn’t return to a meager survival in the Crimson Waste. She had something to prove and found the best way to do it was by throwing people around.

 

They inspired awe and gave an escape to the struggling populace of the Fright Zone. These people had no princesses to look up to, but they had a couple of plucky young mercenaries who would jump in the line of fire to save the other. A bubble of sorrow swelled to Adora’s throat and a few silent tears escaped her. It was unsatisfying - the water took them away.

 

The echoes of nostalgia were suddenly eliminated by a white-hot stinging sensation that tore across Adora’s backside. Her yell and the sound of a whip-crack bounced between walls in a demonstration of the locker room’s fine acoustics. Adora shielded herself and whirled around to meet her attacker, but had a pissed-off hunch who it was.

 

“Hey, Adora.”

 

Catra was leaning against the tiled entrance to the showers with a towel partly-coiled around her hand. It hung low and was swaying in time with her tail as she watched Adora mutter obscenities and scramble for a towel of her own. Catra had taken them all. She had a self-assured look on her face and laughed at Adora’s rapidly-reddening body and frustrated rage before throwing her the towel.

 

“CATRA!” Was all she could manage before the burn on her ass flared up again. “GAH!”

 

Catra was still wearing her black-red catsuit but didn’t carry with her any of the madness that always accompanied Wildcat. With the match-fuelled adrenaline gone, she was back to being casually cocky and almost, Adora wanted to believe, pleased to see her: she wore a sorry smile and her attentive eyes grew more concerned at each bruise near her neck and the slight trickle of red that still clung to her calf.

 

“How long have you been in here!?” Adora tortilla’d herself in the towel and wiped down her face with another, smaller one.

 

“Long enough to enjoy the show,” Catra winked.

 

“Here to gloat?” Adora asked, drying her hair to avoid Catra’s gaze.

 

“Yeah, a little. I mean, who saw that coming?”

 

“Congratulations. You cheated, and Etheria has another princess. Princess of cheating.”

 

“ _Cheated?_ ” Catra crossed her arms and shook her head. “Adora, that was the most real fight we’ve ever had… you - ”   

 

They shared a glance. The fur on Catra stood up straight and Adora lifted her eyelids.

 

“...You okay?”

 

Adora frowned and gave a mocking laugh, grating against Catra’s ears.

 

“How nice of you to care now that the belt and tiara are yours. Didn’t seem to matter to you in the ring.”

 

“All right, yeah, fuck me for caring at all, I guess. That’s how it is?”

 

“What do you want, Catra?”

 

“Well, I didn’t do all this for a fucking tiara, I’ll tell you that. Hordak says there’ll probably be a rematch. So you’ll get another round, Adora, since I’m such a piece of shit that doesn’t deserve to win, apparently...”

 

Adora hated the way Catra was so self-deprecating. She managed to internalize Adora’s off-hand comments and find a way to make it hurt them both. She wanted to tell her how good and talented she was but knew Catra would dismiss it as a classic, preachy She-Ra sermon. Adora wanted to say many things, but even amidst the throes of one of the greatest wrestling wins of all time, she knew Catra would find a way to see it as her spouting pity.

 

“But lemme make it clear, Adora, I _am_ gonna win again.”

 

“Have, I dunno… our bosses agreed on that or is this a Catra promise?”

 

“Catra promise. You know I keep those.”

 

Adora knew what came next.

 

“Unlike an Adora promise.”

 

Adora groaned and pulled her face.

 

“Catra.” She took in a deep breath and tried yet again to help Catra see her perspective. Catra rolled her head, doing the same. It felt like they had done this a lot.

 

“Without the Princess Alliance’s magic, I probably wouldn’t be able to walk. That Hell in a Cell match Hordak pumped so much money into? It broke my neck. Temporary - maybe - permanent paralysis. He was happy to lose me, didn’t even wait around to see which one it was. Probably thought it made the story more dramatic if I was dead by all accounts.”

 

“So now what, you owe them your life? Their federation jumped at the chance to piss on our legacy because we were the only ones out of the Fright Zone who could hold a torch to any of their pretty princess wrestlers. _That’s why_ they poached you and that’s why I don’t understand how you could just… leave me with Chairman Skull and that wannabe witch.”

 

The Fright Zone would never be a nice place to live, in case the name didn’t give it away. Hordak and Shadow Weaver were shitty imitations of parents, but they were something. Adora had counted herself lucky for that something, but Catra’s lady luck was always Adora.

 

Adora drew closer to Catra and took her hand. Her skin was still soft and glowing warmly from the shower that was more scalding decontamination than a wash, but it had the desired effect as Catra’s eyes went wide. Catra’s tail bumped between them and she pretended that she couldn’t see Adora stealing glances at her legs.

 

“I didn’t want to leave you. I was coming back, but things got so busy so fast when they set me up here in Bright Moon. Hordak didn’t take my calls and… neither did you. You fought me with everything you had, and so I gave you space. Now you’re here, it feels like home. We have dental here! And I trust Angella and my friends! Please, stay for a while, Catra? I missed you so much.”

 

Adora touched her forehead to Catra’s, whose eyes were firmly shut, shaking behind her eyelids, trying to work something out. Adora wanted to see them,

 

“She-Ra is a heavy role, an old legend, apparently. I’m not the first to take the name. Lotta responsibilities that keep me tied here; photo shoots, training events, kissing babies, you know, that kinda stuff.”

 

Adora smiled and stroked a thumb over Catra’s hand. The muscles in her soft fingers tensed as the black claws began to gradually extend, but Adora held fast and hoped. Catra’s eyes fluttered and she fought back confusion and persistent, haunting self-doubt. She stared at Adora, searching their past for the truth.

 

When they had kissed for the first time, bubbling with excitement while reading through the reactions to their first televised match. At first, Catra thought she had broken Adora: her cheeks went high and she spoke gibberish. Adora rebooted, returned the favor, and the wrestling finally took a back seat for them to discover each other as something more than training partners. They had laughed all day, that one perfect moment had warmed them like a tender ray of sunshine and had never truly left.

 

“You know how selfish that was, in the ring? I know what you were going to say.”

 

Catra was quiet and withdrawn like she was discussing a delicate secret she dare not fuck up with too many of her words. A sacred key to their destinies had She-Ra not jammed the lock with her clumsy fingers.

 

Adora swallowed and lost the composure that kept such a firm and faithful grip on Catra’s hand. Catra snuck it free and let it fall to her side. Adora was lost without it, her words incomplete and her feelings of longing and regret aimless without something to channel them into. The space between them was too much.

 

“No - I - I just wanted to tell you because it - it just seemed like that was going to be it for us. You weren’t going to stop, you hated me, and so I thought that was the last I’d see of you. It’s like we - we peaked right there at that moment, you know? I’ve never heard cheering like that… I couldn’t see anything but you, everything else was so disorienting… so loud... And I did want you to win, you deserved it and the audience _loves_ you and - so -- ”

 

“So do you?” Catra’s face was sober and tired. “We ‘peaked’, and you decided that was love? So you just go ahead and cap our careers with some stupid gimmick because what - that’s what they wanna see?”

 

Catra leaned in close and placed an arm above Adora’s shoulder, propping herself against the shower wall and speaking spitefully at Adora’s face. Adora was rarely vulnerable, and seeing her chance, Catra pounced.

 

“You never give the audience what they want, Adora. Yeah, I loved you too, but you’re a better wrestler than a fucking person, apparently. We’re both doing _GREAT_ without each other. You should’ve tried saying something outside the ring, ‘cos everything that comes out of She-Ra’s mouth is bullshit.”

 

Adora gritted her teeth and swatted the arm affirming itself over her away, causing Catra to lose balance. Adora hooked her arms under Catra’s to catch her and push her back.

 

“No, it’s not.” Adora stood resolute, finding the extra height she had on her and drawing on She-Ra’s strength. “Sometimes, with that crown, it’s the only way I can say anything. Especially to someone like you, who's just waiting for an excuse to fight.”

 

Catra’s mouth curled, her blood pumping up a storm inside.

 

“Well, now seems like a good a time as any other, don’t you think?”

 

Pointing over her shoulder to Adora’s open locker, she found a blinking red light inside. It was flashing above a black, mounted camera. They were being recorded.

 

“What?” Adora studied Catra, who had her fangs buried into her bottom lip.

 

“Prove it, Adora. Show me that this is more than just a job for you. That I’m more than just a heel. That She-Ra cares enough to see this through to the end. I want our next match to be real, I want to feel it, and I want everyone watching.

 

It was a simple request, one that Adora had delivered time and time again, though it never felt wrong before. It was the camera, Adora thought, turning their backstage personal issues into a parody for others’ entertainment, where Catra could flourish in the safety of theatricality and Adora could feel their pain magnified. It made for good tv, Adora knew.

 

“Let loose, gimme some shots. A lil’ backstage promo ahead of our rematch.” Wildcat was out, on her toes, ready.

 

“When did you turn into an idiot, Catra? I know Hordak’s not big on safety but this isn’t wrestling.”

 

“I disagree, princess. One less safety mat, but we’re trained. We’re the best. Anywhere with you feels like a title match to me.”

 

She was so stubborn. Adora couldn’t see what this would prove, how this fucked up way of sorting their baggage out would fix anything. Adora wanted nothing more than to show Catra how honest she was being.

 

But, honestly, a workout worked.

 

It always held inspiration, if you did the movements right. Adora thought that maybe that was what Catra was after - a demonstration to give some insight into the real conflict through fake conflict. In the end, it would let them spend more time together, and that was enough for Adora.

 

She-Ra took hold of the locker that contained the camera and ripped off the open door with something shy of a grunt. One hinge came loose, and then the other. The door peeled away.

 

She turned to face Wildcat, who kicked her head up at the challenge, inviting the first move. The locker door knocked her to the ground. She-Ra kept pounding her lower into the floor until Wildcat was hissing in a corner, claws swiping in an attempt to skim the princess’ exposed knees. She-Ra threw the weapon away. She gave the camera her side-profile, scowled, and made sure to enunciate her words, though she wasn’t sure if it was getting audio too.

 

“I never wanted this, Wildcat.”

 

“Get on with it, ya wuss.”

 

She-Ra lifted Wildcat by the mane to her feet, spun her in place and ran her against the wall. Still firmly grasping her by the hair, she beat Wildcat’s head into the tiles. It was easy to play safe with even the most savage attacks when they only had the one angle to perform for, and not the complete 360 degrees of a ring full of scrutinizing eyes. In lieu of a blood pack, Catra quickly flicked a claw across her forehead when She-Ra was done forcing her to kiss the wall; a dribble of blood spilled down and around her nose.

 

Wildcat was ready to take more. She turned to face She-Ra but was looking straight at the camera behind her, with a grin on her face made haunting by the blood on her lips. She lifted her chin slightly, and She-Ra took the signal to perform a [chokeslam](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1yT9LC6-i64&feature=youtu.be&t=327). She-Ra grabbed Wildcat’s neck and forced her into the air with her right hand. Her arm was rock solid as it suspended Wildcat high in the air. The princess was undaunted by sharp kicks stabbing at her sides - it was like holding a bag of angry grapes.

 

Catra squeezed the hand around her neck to encourage Adora to continue, but Adora was expecting a reversal. Catra’s eyes were spiteful. Catra grunted and pressed the hand into her neck harder, but Adora shook her head, resolute.

 

A frustrated groan, and then Wildcat jabbed her elbow down on She-Ra’s arm. In one movement She-Ra lost her grip and found her jaw suddenly cradled over Wildcat’s shoulder as she twisted around and brought Adora down in a swift [RKO](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F_S_5AdmPiw).

 

She-Ra’s head bounced off Wildcat’s shoulder blade and she went flat on the cold floor. Adora was out of shot and decided to embrace the peace of it all. It was turning out to be a supremely long day.

 

Catra got up, rubbing her butt; Adora knew she was reevaluating her desire to be choke-slammed, given that the hard ground hitting her ass was nothing compared to what it would have done to her back.

 

If Catra was grateful for Adora’s restraint, she, as usual, didn’t show it. She strutted over to the camera, tilted it downwards to capture the prone body, and lazily walked back.

 

Wildcat placed a foot on She-Ra’s head and paused. Toenails jabbed her brow. Then Catra rubbed her heel over Adora’s face, laughing at the unhappy groans she harvested. Wildcat never relented: if you were standing - pain, on the floor - humiliation.

 

Catra let her head free, and Adora made sure the towel was still firmly in place. She didn’t trust Catra to delete compromising footage. She-Ra sat on her knees and tilted her head at Wildcat.

 

“Feel better yet?” She asked, no longer in character.

 

Catra scoffed, “Hey, I thought you might want some payback, but it seems like you lost your edge along with that belt. You were a tank, Adora.”

 

Catra strolled around behind Adora, trailing a finger through her golden hair as she went. While it wasn’t saying a lot, it was the softest touch Adora had felt all day. Whether it was because of Catra’s icy nails, Adora’s lack of clothes, or the deceptively tender closeness of it all, Adora shivered. Catra knelt with her and closed in on her ear to speak.

 

“I want my tank back.” In a low, sweet voice, “You can take one more, for me?”

 

Given no time to respond, Adora was pushed face-down to the floor once more. Catra crawled over her, pressing hands and knees into her partner’s body. The warm, passing breeze of Catra’s breath on her neck gave Adora goosebumps, and she looked away from the camera. Adora was certain Catra had sniffed her hair, too, but found her head wrapped in Catra’s legs before she could make a point of it.

 

One of her legs kept the back of Adora’s head in place while the other hooked around the front of her neck and locked into the back of her knee. Catra raised them both off the ground and clenched her legs, turning Adora into a tomato as the breath was slowly squeezed from her, with her jaw being clamped shut by a furry foreleg. Not content with merely [silencing](https://youtu.be/5dW8Deqk6q4?t=59) her, Catra began dragging her around into a position where she could show off the trophy squirming against her. Her tail coiled around Adora’s eyes, taking away yet another sense.

 

Posing for the camera, Wildcat pouted, then smirked; swiped her claws in front of her face, and shook her hips, thoroughly pleased with She-Ra’s muffled grunts. Wildcat cocked her head back to see She-Ra tapping against her leg - admitting defeat - her hair matted to her sweaty, flustered face. Wildcat presented her to the camera with a flourish of the hand and purred:

 

“Your princess of power, Etheria.”

 

When they had disentangled, Catra turned off the camera before offering a hand. Adora took it and nearly pulled Catra into the ground getting up. Adora felt her neck and stretched. She’d have to take another shower but couldn’t risk it with Catra still here. Adora couldn’t find the willingness to shoo her away. She had found something somewhere in this backstage rumble with Catra and wished she could run it by her.

 

Catra looked brighter, too. Her eyes were crystal clear in their respective colors, unafraid, unimpeded, by Adora’s presence, and her lips pointed upwards slightly. Was it the adrenaline, the highly successful teasing, or the fact that she had scored yet another win? Adora didn’t really care; Catra was being very cute with the tip of one fang hanging out.

 

“That oughta sell a few tickets,” Catra said, her animosity fading.

 

“A few?” Adora was smiling, her energy returned and her mind was buzzing with ideas.

 

As much as she wanted to hate fighting her friend, damn, were they good at it. Adora couldn’t find her fear for their future. They were always the top of their class, and Etheria deserved to see them at their best. Good friends, better enemies, and if her worry over the upcoming match was kept in check, they’d come out of it as something more.

 

Adora saw Catra trying to read her, and started selling her, a participant of the event, on the show.

 

“Everyone’s gonna be watching. Better get a bigger punching bag, Catra, because Bright Moon has incredible training facilities and right now… I don’t think you have what it takes.”

 

Adora booped Catra’s nose, who, surprised, failed to swat it away in time.

 

“Hah, yeah?” Catra was cheerful, and it lifted Adora’s heart to know she hadn’t lost her emotions. “Keep on like this I’m gonna have to have it write it in that we imprison you in the Fright Zone once I win. You’ll _have_ to stay.”

 

“ _If_ you win…” Adora began, invading Catra’s personal space in a rare switcheroo of personalities that made the feline go stiff. “I’ll let you tie me up in front of everyone.”

 

Catra mouthed silent obscenities and her tail wiggled. Her head got closer and pulled away just as fast. Her sly, thirsty smile was forced into hiding and she nodded.

 

“And if you win?” Catra tried not to sound too excited.

 

“Which of course won’t happen?” Adora presumed, and Catra spun her hand, telling her to go on anyway. “Then I guess I’ll be visiting you in the Bright Moon dungeon.”

 

Catra sighed heavily, taking great pleasure in imagining all the promises they made to each other. Always broken in the end, and Catra believed these ones would be much the same.

 

“I like where your head’s at, but Hordak’s not gonna go for that.”

 

“Hordak’s not gonna be able to stop me, and you’re not, either.”

 

Adora leaned in to speak and so badly wanted a kiss. For good luck, something to show all the flirty banter wasn’t empty posturing. That at the end of all this there was something simple and true to be salvaged. To see that Catra was willing to drop her guard for her, even for a second, and to prove that the cost of being vulnerable was nothing compared to the bliss of each other.

 

Catra could not. In the ring, Catra found herself equal. She told herself she would never lose her edge just because a disarmingly beautiful woman made her feel good. Even if those eyes made her feel like she was the _best_ \- faith had to be restored. Fighting was the only way Catra knew how to go about that.

 

“Can’t wait,” Catra finished, offering a faint smile as the rush of each other faded.

 

When they departed, it was quick. Adora watched Catra leave while holding her arms together, a self-hug sent an empty space down into the pit of her stomach. She thought of Bow and Glimmer and wondered if Catra had made any friends that would greet her return.

 

Catra scooped up the camera and didn’t bother to change out of her outfit. She took the time to sign autographs in Bright Moon, an audience she had previously been unfamiliar with. Catra thought they’d be snooty and enraged by her win, but they clamored around her happily, taking photos and cheering on the newest princess. She gave kids headlocks and pep talks and returned to the Fright Zone a certified hero.

 

Adora would soon follow her back. A familiar face who, stripped of power, was forced to return to a home that no longer wanted her.


	3. Fright Zone Fever

On her roomy, air-conditioned coach to the Fright Zone, Adora noted how much it had changed in the year she had been gone. She took a break from reading the never-ending stream of praise, excitement, fear, and fury blowing up her phone from last week’s match to feel homesick.

 

The polluted skyline was still littered with jagged metal buildings and the air was heavy with the smell of long-dilapidated chemical plants, but there was life. She saw more people than ever making something out of the ruined landscape, building a home from the ashes of a war that no-one remembered.

 

She saw food stalls, old beggars, school kids on a trip traveling together in a line, and great electric signs advertising the Fright Zone’s champion, Wildcat, and their lost heroine, who they still called Adora. Perhaps the greatest sign of their growing affluence was the reduction in potholes. Adora had never traveled for this long in the Fright Zone without feeling like the very terrain was offended by her presence.

 

Adora followed the buildings in the commercial district upwards to see a horizontal banner connecting to the roofs of two skyscrapers. It was a still of Wildcat, lying on her side, head resting on a hand, with Adora’s head trapped between her thighs, about to pop. Catra really wasted no time making use of that recording, and Adora guessed that wouldn’t be the last she saw of it.

 

Adora’s phone buzzed. She checked it and found Glimmer had sent her a motivational playlist, as well as what she had requested be her new entrance music for the rematch.

 

 _Break a leg, Adora! But not, like, really, because that wouldn’t stop them. You got this!_ The text read, alongside a bunch of hearts.

 

The Fright Zone fighters were resilient, more freestyle, and therefore dangerous to perform with. She was heading to a preliminary match with Scorpia, a princess with a history of being too strong for her own good. When she was part of the Princess Alliance, her holds had a habit of injuring her co-stars and her tail was condemned for its potent paralyzing agent.

 

Wrapping a sock around it wasn’t enough for Angella, but it was for Hordak. Adora had joined the princesses after Scorpia had left for the Fright Zone, so the two had never fought before. Adora didn’t have much of a game plan for taking her on but decided she would watch for the tail. She didn’t trust Hordak, despite Angella’s insistence that he was in agreement on Adora taking back the tiara. Adora doubted Catra was told that.

 

The Fright Zone stadium came into view, a dark, looming building that clearly had some investors compared to the rest of the city. It was an architectural wonder - Adora thought it could easily hold its own against the Bright Moon arena, which was a noble, but archaic structure.

 

It was a black pentagon, a military-inspired fortress. It’s vertices jutted out and glowed with a digital, purple font that detailed upcoming matches, sponsors, unrelated news and entirely different sporting events. It was a hub of the city’s information, though its soul was clearly wrestling: as the coach turned to park, Adora saw pictures of her and Catra, back when they were the Horde Mercs, plastered on opposing walls and facing each other.

 

Adora didn’t believe in destiny, but as she stepped off the cool coach into the muggy heat that always oppressed the Fright Zone, it seemed like this was where she was meant to be. She took a deep breath, taking in the large glass windows to the reception. They reflected the bus pulling away behind her, as well as an alien where she stood.

 

The doors parted and it turned out to be Hordak, coming out to meet her. He, at least, looked exactly the same as she remembered. Pale, a loose white shirt, and an excessively charming smile pinned to his face.

 

“Adora! Welcome home!”

 

Hordak clasped her hand in both of his and shook warmly. He had no misgivings about his potential as a father figure in her life, but unlike Shadow Weaver, didn’t lord it over her. He remained detached, ever the businessman, and Adora was thankful for it. Her loneliness as a child was tempered by her focused mind and impressive talent and eventually quelled with Catra’s arrival.

 

“Hordak.”

 

Adora, however, didn’t forget that Hordak had been the cause of their separation, and ultimately, would hurt her as much as he needed if there was something to gain from it. The fact that she was here meant something had been gained.

 

“Ouch,” He winced. “Yes, okay, perhaps I deserve the cold you show me. Even by our standards, it wasn’t safe. Pushing the envelope rarely is! But I know people in Bright Moon, I knew the princesses would look after you, just as they do for all of us.”

 

“You know it’s not about that. I can take a hit. It’s the going behind backs, not telling anyone anything until it’s too late. You’re the reason Catra is so hell-bent on crushing me.”

 

“Me, Adora? Yes, I must promote your fight - that’s the business, but, we both know Catra. Ambitious and, quite frankly, scary. I can’t imagine you would underestimate her willingness to throw herself into the fire for the sport… or someone else.”

 

His interest in their relationship sounded alarm bells in Adora’s head. It was the focal point of their history as performers and the drive behind their impassioned displays of combat, but Hordak’s curiosity meant he was after something more, and Adora rushed the conversation to an end.

 

“Be honest, for once, am I going to win this one against Scorpia?”

 

“Does it matter? This is just a preamble, a tension builder, the first match of a new era in which the Fright Zone will find itself respected on the world’s stage, graced by She-Ra’s presence. Sell her to our audience, gauge their reaction. We will use what we learn to make the finale something truly extraordinary.”

 

Hordak’s dark eyes were always watching the horizon, and his restrained body language revealed nothing of his appetite for power. Adora nodded, determined to overcome whatever he had lying in wait for her, as well as Catra’s lack of faith in her. Hordak let Adora go with his good wishes and a sliver of information.

 

“Scorpia favors being up close and personal, like you. And as strong as you are, Adora, I believe her to be stronger. Don’t be afraid to keep your distance, and grandstand, while you wait for her to recover. And consider using the ropes more, my girl. Remember how much you liked [choking](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ReDYB2rqxlc) people? Back when you had no honor, like the rest of us!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_‘WELCOME ONE AND ALL TO WHAT MAY BE -- NAY, WHAT CERTAINLY WILL BE -- THE GREATEST SPORTING EVENT YOU SHALL EVER EXPERIENCE!’_

 

The Fright Zone’s ring was illuminated in one great spotlight before countless multi-colored lasers spread outwards from the center of the stage into the audience. The darkness that permeated the interior of the stadium was struck through, wall-to-wall, with glowing runic designs. An old alphabet, cast in pulsing colors of purple and red, gave the impression of the ring being swept up in an almighty mystical storm.

 

_‘WITNESS A HEROINE’S JOURNEY BACK TO HER HOMELAND, HER STRUGGLE TO RECAPTURE WHAT HAS BEEN STOLEN FROM HER, AND WHERE HER DESTINY LIES IN A WORLD THAT NO LONGER NEEDS HER.’_

 

The house lights came on and the audience was shown to the cameras, thousands of fans from all over Etheria gathered by a noble purpose: a celebration of peace, through hunger for blood and thunder. They were waving their signs, posing for the cameras that panned over them on invisible ziplines and sprinting to get their trips to the bathroom out the way as the story was introduced.

 

_‘I AM SEA HAWK, I AM, I AM ~ AND I’D LIKE TO THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR HOSPITALITY AS I COME TO THE FRIGHT ZONE TODAY BUT A HUMBLE HISTORIAN, TO CHRONICLE THESE INCREDIBLE EVENTS.’_

 

Sea Hawk took a sip of water and looked at the camera angles shown on the screens on his desk. It was placed precariously close to the ring, within jumping distance. It faced north, towards the walkway the wrestlers made their entrance from. He shuffled through the notes he had been given and threw them away.

 

_‘BUT AS MUCH AS I’M INDEBTED TO YOU, MY ADORING AUDIENCE, I’M AFRAID MY HEART GOES OUT TO YOU, AND ONLY YOU, MERMISTA OF SALINEAS! GOOD LUCK AGAINST LONNIE MY PRETTY WATER LILY! I LOVE YOU ~~ ”_

 

Horde technicians told him to shut up through his earpiece. Undaunted, he prepared to continue by smoothing his hair and striking a pose for the cameras that were not watching him. He was interrupted by the pixels of the entrance wall sparking to life.

 

She-Ra’s old [theme](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ClXDpQFqp-E) began playing, eliciting a chant of discontent at the soft voices that announced the Princess of Power, traitor of the Horde. There were many who would not give up on her, however, and were encouraged by the intensifying guitars to show their support.

 

_‘RETURNING TO THE FRIGHT ZONE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN AN AGE - OUR PROTECTOR AND LAST, BEST HOPE FOR PEACE -_

 

_YOU MAY REMEMBER HER AS THE GOLD STANDARD OF HORDE MIGHT, YOUNG ADORA, BUT SHE COMES BEFORE YOU TODAY HAVING ASCENDED. HER TIARA MAY BE LOST, BUT HER DETERMINATION IS NOT - I PRESENT:_

 

_THE LEGENDARY SHE-RA.’_

 

There was no mistaking the flowing blonde hair that emerged from the entrance, first and foremost. The celestial light that shone on her from above split the darkness, illuminating the ring and the first several rows of the crowd. A sword was held over her head in a mighty stance, which shot out a dense blue laser that split the arena in two. She placed it down in its holder and began her walk to the ring.

 

Her stride was unstoppable, but she never raised her chin. She-Ra was a goddess, but Adora tempered that with her own sense of duty to the fans and humble beginnings. On the screen behind her images of the most devastating attacks, memorable moments, and the most brutal of hits that ordinary wrestlers simply couldn’t take cycled through in a filter of radiant blue and gold colors.

 

She-Ra saw supporters along the closest walls welcoming her with rainbow flags and messages of love. She gave them the finger guns, an old habit from the Horde federation that she couldn’t bring herself to abandon. Two ladies fainted on the spot; she holstered her pistols and shuffled along a bit quicker.

 

When she was at last ringside, she twirled for the crowd, and the chanting of her name at last drowned out the booing of the Wildcat diehards. It was a pleasant reminder that she hadn’t lost everyone, that her talent was still notable among the manufactured drama, and Adora knew she had plenty to show off. She climbed every turnbuckle and raised her arms in a stance of power to the fabulous response of cheering. She was feeling self-indulgent and overly-eager to earn their praise - but Adora knew that they would influence the outcome of tonight more than she ever could herself.

 

A different track halted the song of love and filled the arena with [motivation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGfKi6kpdTQ).

 

It brought She-Ra down from the lofty heights of heaven and back to the protein-fuelled blur of her training days. Fire for the masses, passion in every lick of the electric guitar, Scorpia was beloved by the audience. She stood tall, about the same size as Adora when she had her She-Ra shoes equipped, at about 7 feet. She carried herself in an intimidating stride but was claw-bumping fans that reached their hands out to her.

 

_‘AND HER MIGHTY OPPONENT --_

 

_SOME SAY THE PRODUCT OF A MANIACAL SCORPION QUEEN AND AN ENCHANTED STEAMROLLER -- YOU KNOW HER, YOU LOVE HER -- THE FRIGHT ZONE’S FAVOURITE PRINCESS-TURNED-SOLDIER:_

 

_FORCE CAPTAIN SCORPIA!’_

 

She came out dressed in a black battle harness that clung hard to muscles upon muscles, as well as camouflage trousers in a digital black and red style. A white undershirt was torn to expose her chitinous shoulder blades, broad and barbed. The back of the shirt read ‘100% PRINCESS-GRADE STEEL’ in military block capitals.

 

She had numerous red gemstones and dark satchels around her belt - a promise of unending fire support for whatever war came her way. The tip of her tail was shrouded by a plastic guard, but the whole thing was bulky enough to be used as a sledgehammer, with the individual plates of armor on it jaggedly connecting together.

 

As she approached the ring and climbed the stairs, she raised the ropes to the point of snapping before stepping through. She gave She-Ra a quick glance, eyes wide and mouth parted slightly, before sending out two claw-clacks that quieted the hall.

 

A meek-looking referee, blonde and small, handed Scorpia the mic. She took it with a remarkably dexterous grip between the points of her claws. Her voice was softer than Adora expected; she spoke casually, in a familiar tone.

 

“I just wanna say, She-Ra, before we do this, that I’ve always looked up to you, and I feel a strong connection to your story. We’re both exiles, y’know, and that - that really helped me through some tough times and - and - oh, forget it, can I have a hug?”

 

Scorpia held out her giant arms, still holding the mic with crazy precision between her claws. She-Ra couldn’t rightly refuse a hug from an adoring fan, even if the sight of her biceps flexing suggested this wasn’t going to be an ordinary hug. The audience goaded her on, knowingly, with applause rising.

 

_‘AND THEY SAY WRESTLING ONLY DIVIDES US. WELL, MY FRIENDS, HOW IS THIS FOR SPORTSMANSHIP?’_

 

She-Ra looked to either side for approval and received nothing but. Chanting of Scorpia’s name began in the dozens, and then hundreds, and soon She-Ra shrugged and spread her arms, walking towards the smiling woman.

 

When she was close enough, Scorpia scooped up She-Ra in a crushing [bear hug](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3BHL61KrV08). Adora found it actually quite soothing as Scorpia pushed her claws into her back firmly but carefully, roaming around and working out the knots that Adora always suspected lived deep in her spine. Even still, she made sure to yell and put on a pained expression.

 

_‘AH, NO, BETRAYAL!’_

 

The referee tapped Scorpia’s arm and flailed his hands around in a confusing manner. Scorpia dropped the mic.

 

“C’mon, Kyle, tell me you looked at the gesture sheet Hordak gave you?” Scorpia asked as She-Ra tried to push herself free, moving upwards and using Scorpia’s shoulders for purchase.

 

“I mean - I wouldn’t say I revised it, I - tried, but you guys break the rules all the time, anyway!” He replied.

 

“Which is why we need a good referee, _Kyle_ ,” Scorpia sighed. “Make a ‘C’ with your hand to caution a false start, like this.”

 

She jutted out a claw at Kyle and opened it slightly, releasing She-Ra in the process.

 

“Whoops,” She muttered, and the two backed away from each other.

 

“Right, right, sorry, I knew that,” Kyle stammered, held out one hand in a ‘C’, and pointed to their starting positions.

 

In the calm before the storm, Scorpia spoke to Adora with giddiness, holding her claws to her mouth and struggling to keep her feet still.

 

“Hi, She-Ra! Sorry about that! I know we’ve only got like 6 seconds but I just wanna say you and Catra were a MAJOR inspiration to me when I got to the Fright Zone. I watched you on the tv all the time and thought, well, if they -- “

 

_Ding ding ding._

 

The giant scorpion lady charged at Adora with a [ clothesline](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wmqsDQve4tM) telegraphed well in advance, still talking. Her weighty-looking claws were a deadly red - the makeup crew had really brought out the spiky edges that were tipped in an elegant black like a blade dipped in oil.

 

“...And when you took on The Reptile and swung him off the ring by his tail…!”

 

She-Ra ducked and let Scorpia run into the ropes, attempting to give her a taste of her own clothesline on the rebound. It hit across her chest, but the scorpion lady didn’t budge. She took She-Ra’s follow up blows to the body and went on, without a breath wasted.

 

“I’m personally not a fan of the military suspenders and ammo pouches but it does complete the look, right? But picture this: dance instructor! I mesmerize foes with my graceful movements and flowing dress before I get you with these!”

 

Scorpia hooked a claw around She-Ra’s waist, lifted her into the air horizontally, and dropped with her to the ground, stealing the first (second) hit. She-Ra arched her back in a display of pain, rolled away from a follow-up grab, and got up.

 

“But yeah, Hordak couldn’t see it. Big buff lady gotta be a big buff soldier,” Scorpia finished.

 

“That’s not fair, you should be able to become whoever you want.”

 

Adora couldn’t help but be drawn in by her opponent’s honesty. She-Ra sent a foot at Scorpia, who caught it and tested her balance.

 

“You’ve clearly got the talent,” Adora continued, teetering left and right.

 

“Oh my gosh you are so kind - makes sense really - it’s just that the way Catra spoke about you was like… geez, what a self-absorbed nut and yeah, your arms _are_ nice, but really, is she worth it?”

 

Scorpia crouched, placing the captive leg over her shoulder and locking it in place with a claw, before lifting She-Ra high with a claw pressed to her backside. Scorpia snatched the other leg and held it over her back, and She-Ra found herself even taller, sitting on Scorpia’s shoulders and watching the pictures being taken of her imminent demise, a rising hum from the crowd.

 

“I promise this is the last time I go for your back!” Scorpia looked up at her with a sorry smile.

 

She-Ra shut her eyes, kept her head forward, and felt the rush of air from Scorpia’s [powerbomb](https://youtu.be/9XFgXWkrHQ4?t=45) as she was thrown to the ground. She-Ra hit the floor as the cheering peaked. It stung; her whole body jolted with the floor, but it was clean. She let out a heavy exhale, with some time to recover thanks to Scorpia’s taunting - who flexed an arm and slapped her bicep, gave the other a kiss, and raised her head to the sky.

 

_‘SHE-RA? MORE LIKE SHE-WRECKED!’_

 

Kyle rushed to the ground and held Adora’s hand. She squeezed it to let him know she was okay and opened her eyes. _She-reckoned_ it was about time for things to go her way. It felt like all she had done the past few days was take blows and let others take her strength. Adora was She-Ra for a reason, and she started to believe it.

 

She-Ra kicked her legs out while pushing her hands down into the floor, and felt the momentum carry her back into a standing position. She landed in a squat and stomped a foot at the ground. Scorpia didn’t hear or pretended not to, and so She-Ra sprinted at her.

 

Scorpia turned as the fans’ cries turned to alarm, and She-Ra put all her power into her shoulder - [spearing ](https://youtu.be/Pl-Sd8nw8c8?t=40)the soldier princess who still did not fall. She stumbled back, back and further back as Adora kept pushing against her torso for all she was worth until her opponent fell against the ropes. She was off-balance and grabbed the top rope for support before throwing a blind claw at She-Ra.

 

She-Ra caught it and forced it back, leaving both of Scorpia’s arms resting on the rope. She-Ra pounded her own chest with a fist - a taunt and a warning. She took a few steps back to charge and then launched a dropkick Scorpia’s way. She raised her head and it caught her below the neck, flipping her backward over the ropes. The audience ignited and cameras soon captured She-Ra, leg testing the bottom rope, resting her elbow on her knee and looking smugly down on her foe.

 

_‘A FANTASTIC COMEBACK BY SHE-RA. NOW, IT BEGINS!’_

 

Scorpia stirred and leaned on her forearms to see the ringside fans cheering and begging her to get up. A little girl was waving a pair of red oven-mitts at her, cut like claws and outlined in black marker. She took in everyone’s thrilled expressions and acted dazed to keep her grin down, while She-Ra mounted the turnbuckle.

 

Adora hated doing this, which, of course, meant everyone else loved seeing it. The Fright Zone ring seemed so much more elevated than Bright Moon’s, but now wasn’t the time for vertigo. She-Ra pulled in more praise, let it wash over her and strengthen her resolve as she positioned to jump, balancing carefully on the corner where the ropes met. She took a deep breath and designated her target with an ominous finger.

 

_‘SCORPIA! GET UP!!’_

 

Scorpia had made it to her knees when She-Ra leaped, elbow poised to strike her down like lightning. They were as surprised as each other when Scorpia caught her out of the sky, claws tight around her neck and leg. Adora mouthed a ‘thank you’ and started struggling. Scorpia slowly stood to her full height and kept good on her promise to leave She-Ra’s back alone.

 

_‘WHAT STRENGTH! I KNOW WHO I’M ROOTING FOR!’_

 

Instead, she placed She-Ra in a fireman’s carry - wrapped around her shoulders - before throwing her upwards and [spinning ](https://youtu.be/ix01deX3_5E?t=143)her body like a roulette wheel mid-air. She-Ra fell parallel with Scorpia, taking most of the impact with her shoulder and finding her head cushioned by a claw, which was infinitely preferable to the unshakable ground outside the ring.

 

They lay for a moment, having burned through a huge chunk of stamina right out the gates, and let Sea Hawk use up some of his as he went berserk - they could see him from their position on the floor pointing animatedly and mounting the table for a better view.

 

“You good?” Scorpia turned to ask Adora.

 

“Yeah…” Adora breathed into the ground. “Back in the ring?”

 

Scorpia rose and began pulling up She-Ra by an arm, seemingly aggressive and impatient.

 

“Reverse me into the steps, roll me in,” Scorpia tugged on her, pausing at the ropes.

 

She-Ra twisted around the arm yanking her, made impressive by its sheer size, and threw a knee into Scorpia’s stomach as she was made vulnerable. When she doubled back, She-Ra took hold of her head and ran her into the steps. They crumpled beneath her weight, made of a weak, specially designed aluminum, though Adora imagined Scorpia would make a dent were they made of steel, too.

 

_‘A NASTY HIT, BUT EVEN A PRINCESS WILL DO WHAT SHE MUST. THE REFEREE CERTAINLY DOESN’T SEEM TO MIND!”_

 

Kyle made a show of calling them back into the ring, though he wasn’t counting them out. Adora supposed it was either a no-disqualification match, which the Fright Zone had plenty of, or Kyle didn’t know what he was doing.

 

She-Ra slammed Scorpia against the ring, and then pushed her underneath the bottom rope where she rolled onto her back with her massive arms splayed out. She-Ra followed and decided to gauge her progress by attempting to pin the giant lady. She lifted one of her legs and Kyle reached a count of two before Scorpia kicked out.

 

She-Ra didn’t give her a chance to stand, quickly nudging her onto her front with a foot and taking her legs between her arms. She squatted over her, pulling Scorpia’s legs up in a tight, burning contortion of her muscles. Scorpia tried to thrash free, but She-Ra was strong.

 

‘ _THE_[ _BOSTON CRAB_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfdKzE2K_OM) _! HOW RUDE!’_

 

Scorpia wouldn’t tap out, but couldn’t escape either. She could only swipe at She-Ra’s legs as the princess of power pressed down on her, gave her space, and then pressed down further, each time drawing out a yowl that only encouraged her to keep going.

 

Scorpia’s prayers were answered by a new song that took the stage by force, announcing a new challenger. Adora, embarrassingly, recognized it. It was from Catra’s years when she was young, angry and just wanted to [break stuff](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qICwgHT5rpg). The audience was ecstatic at Wildcat’s arrival and started singing along until even Sea Hawk couldn’t match the noise.

 

It was hard for Adora to laugh at the utterly not-suitable-for-kids lyrics when she was the target of them, especially when she saw that Catra was already upon the ropes and had She-Ra in her sights.

 

Wildcat rushed the ring and Adora knew the match was over, beating herself up mentally before Catra could physically - it was something else Adora could have seen coming, should have expected from her. Why did she think Catra would keep her championship bout separate from this prequel with Scorpia? Neither Hordak nor Catra were very professional, though Adora was thankful that such a trait gave them so many chances to see each other: She-Ra would always drive Wildcat out front and center.

 

Wildcat dived at her and broke up the back and forth with Scorpia, turning the throw-fest into a boxing match. Merciless jabs tore into She-Ra’s core. Before she could respond, Wildcat was outside of She-Ra’s range, cracking her knuckles and bouncing on her feet.

 

She-Ra held her arms out, motioning ‘ _really?_ ’

 

Wildcat nodded and licked her lips, and She-Ra saw her eyes focus on something behind her. She felt Scorpia’s arms wrap around her and trap her, leaving her helpless once more in the face of Catra. Wildcat laughed at Kyle trying to wave her away and took a step towards him - quick and fierce - which made the amateur ref stumble back and fall over. She picked up the mic from him and locked eyes with Adora.

 

She sauntered close to her and spoke proudly.

 

“Adora, Adora, Adora.”

 

She waited for the hollering of the crowd to subside.

 

“Bet you thought this was gonna be easy, huh? Waltz on back here, make a big mess of things like always, and flex on poor Scorpia here who’s like your number one fan.”

 

She-Ra felt Scorpia nodding and the fans’ animosity wash over her, like a tide Catra could manipulate at will.

 

“You know what happens next. We used to do it all the time back when we got pushed just _a little too far,_ remember? When they’d doubt us and kick us down and were so convinced that, well, hey, just a couple of girls, right? What’s the worst they could do?”

 

Wildcat gave her no chance to respond, slipping out under the bottom rope and reaching under the tarp covering the bottom of the ring. She pulled out a folding chair, black as night, and threw it into the ring before following it up in a dexterous spring through the middle ropes. The spectators gave out an “Oooh!” that steadily surged in volume and anticipation.

 

Scorpia raised She-Ra up by the arms, presenting her to the worried fans, bloodthirsty masses, and most importantly, Wildcat. She grabbed the chair and tested its weight by throwing it up in the air. As it fell back into her grasp, she instantly reared back and smacked She-Ra with it center-mass.

 

The clap from the weapon resonated with the sound of the audience, but it seemed more concerned than thrilled. Fearful, they cried out as Wildcat swung again and made it hurt. Adora was tensed up, powering through each hit with a violent exhale.

 

Wildcat was losing them, which meant they were She-Ra’s, now. Catra had come on too strong, impatiently stealing Scorpia’s glory and changing it into something dirtier than even the Fright Zone’s rough assembly would allow on this hallowed day in wrestling history.

 

“I told myself I wasn’t going to enjoy this, Adora, but I am. I really am.”

 

She snarled into the mic and heard the first boos caress her ears. She watched Adora with curious eyes. There was a question somewhere behind them, and in the absence of a mic, Adora elected to answer in the only way Catra would listen. As the feline danced around and lined up another shot, Adora whispered to Scorpia.

 

“Can you take this one?”

 

“Oh, I really shouldn’t. She’s gonna be mad.”

 

“She’s always mad! Listen to everyone, they want a comeback! Please?”

 

“Arrgh - why is it so hard to say no?! Okay!”

 

Wildcat wound up a downward strike that would whack a mole straight to hell. She-Ra hit Scorpia’s chin with the back of her head and was released, ducking just in time to avoid having the chair clock them both. After a loud ‘ _CLACK!’_ Scorpia collapsed and She-Ra immediately took Wildcat to the ground. The crowd was falling over themselves for a better view, trying to figure out who was winning.

 

Wildcat’s eyes were wide, and she struggled to secure a limb to punish. She deftly moved her head out of the way of She-Ra’s punches and wrapped her legs around her waist, which was a mistake. Wildcat tried to twist her off to the side, jabbing her in the stomach with a generous amount of claws for encouragement, but She-Ra was steadfast, almost chipping one of the black nails with her immortal abs.

 

She-Ra hurled the feline up and threw her over her shoulder, forcibly unhooking her legs and letting her free-fall onto her back. Wildcat was on her feet in a second, darting back towards her prey. She-Ra watched her movements, an unwavering sentinel, waiting for the right time to strike.

 

Wildcat feigned a swipe as she closed the distance but She-Ra saw through it. Still too agile to catch, Wildcat evaded her attempt at a grab - turning on the spot and jumping over Scorpia’s body - before continuing into the ropes to keep her speed up. She bounded off them and came face to face with a wrecking ball of an outstretched arm waiting to catch her. She barely slid under it and came to the safety of the ropes again. She climbed them and slinked rapidly across the rope on her nimble feet, reaching the turnbuckle before She-Ra could shake her off.

 

“What’s the matter, pussycat? I thought you wanted my attention?”

 

“Looks like I got it.”

 

She-Ra went blind, her head encased in Scorpia’s [clawhold](https://youtu.be/kWvnWbD3AqY?t=420).

 

She panicked and lost breath, face buried into the nook of the force captain’s claw. If Adora hadn’t found so much trust in the short time that she had known the giantess who now guided her over to the ropes, she would have thought her a psychopath about to split her head like a melon. As it stood, it was merely a near-death experience.

 

Fans closest to the ring screamed her name, but Adora couldn’t move. Even if she had nails like Catra’s, they’d never make Scorpia lose her hold - the armor trapping her, vice-like, may as well have been metal. She tried kicking her feet to where she thought Scorpia’s legs were, but Adora found they, too, were taken, lifted up by Wildcat. Trussed up completely, she submitted to Scorpia’s directions and was carried over to the ropes.

 

She-Ra’s vision returned, feet touched the ground, and the first thing she saw was a sign that read, “Hey Adora!”

 

Her head was pushed down and her throat made the rope droop. Wildcat leaned on it with her, watching her choke as Scorpia pushed down with an elbow while keeping She-Ra’s legs pinned between her own.

 

Adora rolled her eyes, both from a pretend lack of oxygen and an inability to put up with more of Wildcat. She was consigned to defeat: so long as it would get Catra’s eyes off her, stop her incessant, intrusive gaze that grew more intent with her suffering, with each stuttering gasp.

 

Catra slapped Adora twice when her eyes closed, and Scorpia let up. The crowd murmured, fearful, with only the odd message of hope or damnation ringing out, amplified by the hushed air.

 

“Want me to end this, Adora?”  

 

“Please. You think this is gonna stop me from kicking your ass later?”

 

Wildcat laughed, genuinely charming amidst the atmosphere of dread. Bringing her by the hair extensions to the middle of the ring, she threw She-Ra on top of the flat chair. She then kicked her over, picked up the chair, and nodded to Scorpia to assist. The princess lifted She-Ra to her feet, who was limp out of spite. Wildcat opened the chair up and put her head through the gap between the chair’s back and its seat.

 

_“SWEET ETHERIA, AT THIS RATE THERE WILL BE NO FINALE!”_

 

Scorpia kept She-Ra’s hands in place behind her and placed a foot ready to trip her into a fall onto the chair. Wildcat placed her index finger on She-Ra’s head, giving the impression that she was holding her up, keeping her safe from the beheading that was about to take place.

 

_“I CAN’T WATCH!”_

 

Their eyes met. Adora’s bold, in spite of her circumstances, and Catra’s greedy. She was enjoying trailing a finger along Adora’s face, returning the nose touch from earlier in a public showcase of dominance. She still didn’t look satisfied, though, and eyed the chair with disappointment.

 

“Well?” Adora said, and the cameras focused on her defiant stare.

Wildcat’s claws scraped across her forehead, but before She-Ra could be [guillotined](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_WHCc8ja4n4), a familiar voice humbled the stadium, and a haunting [melody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DaoyKECQnPw) of strings sent a chill through the stage.

 

“Stop the execution.”

 

Only the wrestlers and long-time Fright Zone fanatics recognized the image projected on the entrance wall, though it didn’t take long for everyone in the arena to fully give their attention to the man in the white skull mask.

 

Scorpia held her claw to her chest in a salute, dipping her head slightly, as did Kyle, and Wildcat reluctantly followed. She-Ra removed the chair wrapped around her head and looked at the big screen. Whenever he showed up, the outcome was decided.

 

Lord Hordak spoke to his subordinates, but his menacing red eyes were always on Adora - she could tell.

 

“You dishonor our guest, Wildcat. You dishonor the Fright Zone.”

 

He let the words sink in, rumble through the audience, and circle back to Catra.

 

“You make us look weak. Our fighters pitiful - like flies - swarming an adversary who brings the entire world with her. Are you scared of her, _Catra?”_

 

Catra froze up, unused to hearing her real name from anyone, really, but Adora.

 

“No, not scared. Not quite. This is something much more dangerous, isn’t it?”

 

Her tail crept towards Adora, and they found themselves sharing their past again. It was a barrage of anxiety and expectation, recounting every stolen moment of peace and comfort, and the eternal promise that broke through all the tides of suffering and hopelessness.

 

“She has your loyalty.”

 

The audience whispered amongst themselves, and Adora looked at Catra. Her hands were clenched into fists, and she looked at Adora out of the corner of her moody blue eye. She raised her chin back up to the screen.

 

“I award this victory to She-Ra. My apologies, Scorpia, you fought well, but there are precautions we must take, lest we incur the wrath of the entire Princess Alliance. We have not come this far to be left behind. The future will be ours. The title match begins in one hour. I will speak to you Catra, and you will learn not to fail me again.”

 

Hordak disappeared and the audience broke into frantic, uncertain noise. Kyle raised Scorpia’s arm in victory and the audience congratulated her.

 

Catra gave one last look at Adora and slipped out of the ring before she could be followed. Adora shook Scorpia’s claw and steeled herself for the deciding moment.

 

_‘THERE IT IS, CALLED BY HEAD HONCHO HORDAK HIMSELF, A SECOND DEFEAT FOR SHE-RA, AND A GLORIOUS WIN AGAINST ONE OF THE STRONGEST WRESTLERS IN THE GAME FOR SCORPIA. NEXT UP: WILDCAT VS. SHE-RA. BELIEVE ME, YOU WON'T WANT TO MISS THIS!’_


	4. Showdown

As title holder, Wildcat entered first.

 

The lights flashed red, quickly on and off and growing faster. The arena was suspended in a blood red glow. When it drained, and went dark again, a barrage of crimson lasers targeted Wildcat. She went up in smoke, causing the beams to pulsate and split, and then cut through the haze.

 

_‘HERE SHE IS ETHERIA! I, FOR ONE, WELCOME OUR NEWEST PRINCESS WITH AS MUCH REVERENCE AND FEAR AS SHE DEEMS APPROPRIATE.’_

 

A blasphemous excuse for a princess, Wildcat sent currents of pride and menace down the entrance ramp. It hooked the audience, caused them to cheer and holler her name against the beat of an anarchist’s [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AbGJeXShopk). A wailing guitar accompanied her saunter down the walkway and into the ring, full of herself but always with room for Adora.

 

_‘THE FRIGHT ZONE’S FINEST COMMANDER; A KNIFE IN THE DARK; A FIRESTORM OF FUR; A CAT WITHOUT A CAUSE EMBOLDENED BY THE BETRAYAL OF HER VERY BEST FRIEND.’_

 

Whatever Hordak had spoken to her about was either praise for her performance, or it didn’t matter to her. The audience could feel her purity of purpose - to destroy and look good doing it - and quickly forgot about her dirty tactics in Scorpia’s match. The Fright Zone was united in their adoration for the ever-smoking gun that was Wildcat.

 

_‘CHECK YOUR LAUNDRY BASKET, ADORA: THIS FELINE WILL STALK HER ENEMIES TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH, AND WON’T LET GO OF A GRUDGE -_

 

_WATCH OUT, IT’S WILDCAT!’_

 

The lioness was adorned with a gold belt hanging crooked over her usual dark red leotard, and spinning around her finger was the symbol of Etherian order and hope: She-Ra’s tiara. After sticking her tongue out at it, she cast it off into a section of the crowd. They clamored after it, and the hulking black shape of a security guard could be seen tackling those unfortunate enough to attempt catching it.

 

Wildcat entered the ring and sniffed in the air, shaking her head vigorously at the headrush that came with fans all over Etheria watching and believing in her. She held out her arms and they gave themselves to her. She fed off their spirit and took the mic from an overwhelmed Kyle.

 

‘MY LOYAL SUBJECTS!’ She began, in a voice mockingly close to Angella’s. ‘AS MY FIRST DECREE I SHALL - ”

 

Her own laughter cut her short, and she batted a hand at them.

 

“NAH! I’M JUST PLAYING, FRIGHT ZONE! WHERE MY PEOPLE AT?!”

 

Their cheering was a tremor, telling her everything she needed to know. She could listen to it all day, and liked not having to share it with a jock who’d still find a way to be bashful - as if it wasn’t 100% of the job - and dainty - like she wasn’t built like a brick shithouse, and as ripped as all of Catra’s jeans.

 

Catra fought back distracting thoughts and addressed the audience.

 

“I know someone more humble than me who might take this time to thank you all. For standing with me as I jump through these hoops, claw a couple of eyeballs, and power through bruises. Well, I’m not that sort of person, apparently. See, I’m the _bad guy_.”

 

Catra gave them jazz hands, and the audience sounded their disagreement. Signs and banners sent her support including: “Wildcat Rushes In!” a misspelled “Unleash the furry!” and “If Adora wins we RIOT!”

 

“No, no, they’re right. Get bent everybody! _I_ did this. If you’re looking for a message, here’s one for you kids out there: you can do anything, even if no-one else thinks so. Especially if no-one thinks so.”

 

Catra took a deep breath and rolled her neck.

 

“But enough of that sappy stuff, yeah? You all came to see me kick She-Ra’s butt, didn’t you?”

 

They yelled and clapped, and Catra thought them so easy to please.

 

“Then don’t keep us waiting any longer, Adora. I know you’re listening.”

 

And that she was.

 

A song of [summertime](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eYEgYVyBDuM) joy and the celebration of life took the arena. Skillful, rising guitar solos and impassioned vocals brought Adora front and center - without her extensions or her She Ra Shoes.

 

She wore her hair in a classic ponytail and had mostly skipped the makeup crew. Save for the blue and white outfit, which showed off her arms too well to pass up, it looked like the Horde Merc had returned. There was a mic in one hand, and tucked around it were two small pieces of paper.

 

She bounced on her feet, throwing out three-punch combos and interacting with the front row more than ever before. They screamed Adora’s name and she came to them with as many high-fives, fist-bumps, and finger guns as she could manage. All-too-smiley and overbearing, Catra thought and watched her with a mix of annoyance and the usual fluttering.

 

Adora was half-way down the entrance ramp when she turned and looked up at her partner.

 

“CATRA!” Adora, for reasons unknown, shouted into the mic.

 

 _‘I’VE GOT TWO TICKETS TO PARADISE!’_ Sea Hawk sang along with all the practice of a thousand karaoke nights.

 

“I WANT YOU TO COME WITH ME BACK TO BRIGHT MOON!”

 

_‘WON’T YOU PACK YOUR BAGS AND LEAVE TONIGHT?”_

 

Adora was all-in. In place of her sword, over her head, she waved two completely fake bus tickets since the Alliance’s coach was already at her beck and call. But it completed the illusion, and Adora smiled wide at Catra, who covered her face with a hand. She had heard it all before, but now it was a plot point, and an extremely embarrassing one at that.

 

The crowd howled their appreciation for the wrestlers’ reunion, despite the fact that it came with the possibility of Wildcat leaving them for Bright Moon. True selflessness, and a testament to the power of love. The matchmakers in the audience were breathless; scribbling hearts on the back of their former signs and waving them proudly.

 

Adora climbed into the ring. Catra cocked her head when the blonde stopped and looked searchingly at her. They both had mics of their own, but Adora was waiting for Catra to say something, with a dorky smile as disarmingly wide as her expectant arms, awaiting a hug. Adora knew Catra wouldn’t, but it was a nice lesson from Scorpia and it would get the audience further on her side.

 

“What is this, Adora?” Wildcat squinted, finding She-Ra easier to stomach than

 

Adora dropped her arms and took a breath, as well as a quick glance at the audience around her. She was grateful for what she had and would be happy if the rest of her life was showing up to matches making grand gestures like this to Catra. Sooner or later, something in her was going to give.

 

“Catra, you’re why I do this.”

 

Their fans screamed - it was all happening so fast.

 

Wildcat sucked her teeth and couldn’t meet her eyes. She looked at the bus tickets instead. They were Catra’s drawings, old and worn, of their original costume designs. Adora moved closer and spoke more freely.

 

“When I’m fighting with you - or even against you - it feels like nothing can stand in my way. Like… the mat on the floor is always there, at the end of the day, to catch us. And when I find that ground again, it reminds me that none of it was worth the worry. And I do worry, like, _a lot._ But I realized that you’re still there, win or lose, and you’ll help me up… usually.”

 

Adora held out her offering. Catra scrunched up her face at the sloppy linework. Adora looked honest. Catra knew she wasn’t just saying this to fuck her over, and that made it much harder hold her own against her.

 

“If this is a war, I’m not going to surrender. But it doesn’t feel like that, Catra. It never has.”

 

“You’re not a princess, Adora.” Catra unbuckled the champion’s belt and let it drop. She felt exposed, as if Wildcat had retreated into the jungle for the night. “Neither am I, but at least I don’t pretend. So why should I be the one to follow you?”

 

It wasn’t an outright ‘no’, and so Adora was getting farther than she expected.

 

“Because... I’ve already made dinner reservations for tonight?”

 

The audience laughed and cheered, and Catra rolled her eyes, but she wore a half-smile.

 

“‘Cos you’re gonna get sloppy without me around?” Adora continued, wanting to add ‘because Hordak sucks and is going to hurt you.’

 

It was surreal, Adora realized, as the fans went still. To talk so simply, without their characters, surrounded by adoring fans that were giving them the time they needed. The occasional yell rang out from an outpouring of enthusiasm, but otherwise, the world was theirs. The ring was made to be a battleground, and yet the cold, harsh light on them only served to bring them out to each other.

 

“Yeah…” Catra admitted. “Probably. But it’s been nice to not have to wake up so early.”

 

 _Even if it’s waking up alone,_ Catra swallowed and saw Adora share her smile. She didn’t want to give her false hope, the sweet idiot. Catra’s decision was already made.

 

“I can’t abandon this, Adora.” She stated. _Not even for you._

 

“I understand.”

 

Adora nodded, looking so infuriatingly serene to Catra, like getting her ass handed to her one too many times had permanently crossed her wires, before putting up her fists. Kyle indicated their starting positions, and the crowd started rising to their feet as they readied themselves.

 

“Don’t think I’m giving up, though,” Adora winked. “On you, or the belt.”

 

“Good. I mean, that’s not your style, is it? Stubborn, dumb, always biting off more than you can chew. But I think you’ll find me faster than a Bright Moon punching bag.”

 

The mics were down, the bell sounded.

 

_Ding ding ding._

 

Catra wanted the opener, and Adora let her have it. She looked younger - feistier if such a thing was possible. She flexed her claws, arms outstretched at her sides, and gave a maniacal smile. She approached Adora leisurely and raised one hand. Adora lifted an eyebrow, shrugged, and engaged her in a [test of strength](https://youtu.be/MmV0kpcB4dE?t=14), clutching one, and then the other, of Catra’s hands, and tried forcing her to the ground with sheer might.

 

Adora was not going to lose this genuinely: she was fairly certain it was written into her contract that She-Ra couldn’t lose tests of strength. Wildcat proved her right, headbutting her the second she felt her strength failing. It caught Adora mostly in the neck and shoulder but looked real enough, and judging from Catra’s swearing, had hurt her more than Adora.

 

_‘OH! A VULGAR DISPLAY FROM WILDCAT! I’M STILL NOT CONVINCED, ARE WE SURE THEY’RE FRIENDS?’_

 

She-Ra flailed backward, turning around and holding her face in anguish as the crowd sounded their disapproval. Even for Wildcat, it was low. They booed and the tide turned in favor of the princess. As soon as Wildcat clasped the back of her shoulder, She-Ra whirled around with an elbow to the face, a dirty trick of her own that sent spit flying at Kyle.

 

Wildcat recoiled back from the hit, eyes wide, and took a restrained punch to the head, and another, and another, as she was pushed towards the ropes. Before Adora could finish her combo, Catra winked, and Adora tensed her body up. Catra ducked under her final punch and pushed hands into her stomach, lifting her only slightly and allowing Adora to flip herself over the ropes.

 

_‘SHE-RA IS SENT FLYING! THE BIGGER THEY ARE, YADA YADA!’_

 

As soon as She-Ra opened her eyes, she saw Wildcat, waving fingers at her, balanced impressively on the middle of the top rope. She leaped, bouncing up and flipping forwards before landing across Adora’s body in a high-flying [450 splash](https://youtu.be/73OM5KIXhfY?t=38).

 

She-Ra put her throat to work in a pained yell that would hit the first two rows of the audience. Wildcat’s fluffy elbows still felt like buckshot when they collided with her ribs from such a height. The crowd shouted along with She-Ra, a cascade of ‘OHH!’ falling down on her harder than the feline herself.

 

“My b,” Catra groaned, getting up off her and nodding at the closest fans with her hands outstretched, seeking approval for her masterful execution of such a stunt. They gave it all to her, and she took it greedily before casting a sly glance at She-Ra who started to get up. “What you want?”

 

“Hands high,” Adora said, pushing the blonde hair that had come loose away from an eye but leaving the rest of it to shroud the other. The blue of her one focused eye shone all the brighter, and Catra couldn’t keep her eyes off it as the hulking body breathed before her.

 

Wildcat’s paws kept her head up in a cutesy taunt that made it look like she was a flower in bloom. Adora’s kick came fast, higher than the afternoon sun, and hard. The slap of flesh was real. Wildcat was flat in a second, barely cushioning the blow with the hands that were by her chin; the back of her head all but [crushed](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Qck7mgLMH8) on impact with the ground, if not for Adora’s warning.

 

_‘GOODNESS GRACIOUS! I FELT THAT FROM HERE!’_

 

Catra panted. In spite of her life flashing before her eyes, there was a great big grin on her face as she lay splayed out on the floor. A heavy foot pressed upon her stomach, and She-Ra looked down on her with more concern than pleasure.

 

Wildcat’s tail moved up the leg pinning her, reassuring, tantalizing, gripping tight to Adora’s calf and thigh, immobilizing her with a flustering touch more than any hold ever could with outright pain. She-Ra tried to shake her leg free, and Wildcat swept her other leg out from under her.

 

She-Ra toppled directly onto Wildcat. Adora’s arms were steadfast, keeping her a breath from Catra’s face. A bead of sweat dropped onto Catra’s forehead, but she was too busy looking at Adora’s jaw to respond.

 

“Don’t say it!” Adora said, beet-red.

 

“Hey, Adora,” Catra snickered, making Adora laugh, a smirk ruining her perfect princess composure.

 

Before she knew it, She-Ra lost her arms. Her head was pushed to the floor by Wildcat’s right hand, a tail flicked across her nose; and in that time Adora found fuzzy legs keeping the two of her arms pinned to the ground while Catra pulled She-Ra’s head away from them, towards her own gleeful, freckled face.

 

God, Adora hated submission holds. She could never figure out what was happening until it was too late, until she was already [feeling the glow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AHZ0rGVApTY) that came with Catra dominating her. It sent heat down her arms and spine, making her scream from the paralyzing electricity.

 

She-Ra gritted her teeth. There was no way she’d be tapping out, no matter what Wildcat spiked through her body. Torture couldn’t touch her, so long as Catra would be on the other side.

 

“You like this, don’cha, Adora?” Catra murmured, her fangs biting lip.

 

“I prefer it the other way around,” Adora grunted. “Don’t you?”

 

She-Ra screamed, using all of her upper body strength to touch her nose to Catra’s, who looked on, horrified, as her victim sacrificed her arms to force a headbutt her way. It knocked Wildcat loose.

 

_‘THE FAVOUR, RETURNED!’_

 

The two of them went limp. Adora’s arms burnt icy-hot, left behind in the very last circle of hell. Oxygen felt scarce, and her vision was flecked with stars. Even still, she felt she could do this for years. Adora wondered who the very first She-Ra was, and what enemy could possibly compare to Wildcat, as they both stood up and faced each other, only just warming up.

 

“Get back in the ring,” Wildcat growled, circling her prey.

 

“Make me.”

 

Wildcat snarled a delighted breath and her teeth glinted, shark-white. Her jet black nails grew, sliding free from her fingers and curling into keen razor-points. They were out, completely, and Adora shuddered at the thought of them carving lines into her.

 

“You okay with this?” Wildcat asked, her tongue escaping her mouth, eager for a taste.

 

She-Ra cracked her knuckles, unable to think of some off-putting line and trusting her own strength to show that Catra would need those claws. She-Ra rolled her neck and sent fingers gliding down her throat, inviting an attack.

 

The pace is turned up to 11.

 

Wildcat jabs at She-Ra’s side, who deflects, leaving her knuckles cut, and Wildcat backs away. She-Ra’s foot stomps loud, bending the earth, but she makes no follow-up attack, and Wildcat watches. Before she can go on the offensive, She-Ra charges with a right shoulder bigger than the feline’s head, and an unconquerable left fist armed to catch any sneaky evasions.

 

Wildcat dodges to the right and awaits the left hook. She-Ra doesn’t give it, stops dead in her tracks, a metric ton of princess-grade steel, and throws her right arm out straight to sever her head. Wildcat ducks it and the left hand finally comes into play with a twist of the body - low, arcing into a powerhouse of an uppercut.

 

It brushes past Wildcat’s whiskers; she rolls backward out of range with her last ounce of stamina, propped up on all fours, as feral as she was taught to be, but desperately in need of a taunt to catch her breath with.

 

And still, She-Ra comes.

 

Wildcat sees every detail of the haymaker heading towards her. Calloused fingers, scarred knuckles, and a cocky shoulder roll before the whole thing has a chance to connect. They never came so fast in training.

 

Wildcat’s kick pushes her away before it can become lethal, but her face catches a simultaneous blow that staggers her. It sears her cheek and eliminates her thought processes. She can see Adora’s nostrils flared, taking in as much air as they can as she rears back for another charge.

 

Wildcat risks an offensive. She has to stop Adora from attacking, even for a second, who seems to have been blessed with a hero’s endurance. A jumping [scissor kick](https://youtu.be/U2GH-ALedjk?t=100), timed impeccably to land across the back of the torpedo known as She-Ra, slams her to the ground and defuses the bomb, for the time being. The crowd explodes in her place.

 

Wildcat rolls back into the ring and leans on the ropes to rest. She watches as She-Ra rises to one knee, and then steadily to both feet. Her eyes catch Catra’s, and it’s as if Adora’s someone entirely new. Catra shakes the thought that she had been holding back this whole time, or that she had been possessed by some warrior goddess, and backs up, allowing her access to the ring.

 

They find themselves on equal footing once more, though much worse for wear, as She-Ra climbs into the ring and stares at Wildcat with the fury of a fallen empire. Wildcat’s fur is matted with sweat and her dark markings blur into her tanned skin. She-Ra’s obvious breathing reminds Wildcat to do the same, though it only takes half a breath before the Princess of Power is at her again, with a slow, confident stride that strikes fear into the lion’s heart.

 

A false punch and Catra falls for it, disoriented and on edge. As she dodges to the side, She-Ra makes a guess to what direction, gets lucky, and tackles her to the ground. Wildcat hisses and squirms uncomfortably, her forearms trapped by stone hands.

 

“Tired, kitty cat?” She-Ra gloated as the pace rolled back to an easy 10.

 

“Pff, do your worst.”

 

Adora gazed into Catra’s eyes, broadcasting something of an apology, as she prepared to grant her wish.

 

She-Ra turned her partner’s body over to mush her face against the mat and quickly plants a knee to the back of her head. She wrapped her arms around both of her legs and pulled them through the nooks of her arms in an effort to [tame ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NtvN_9nWskE) Wildcat. Her muscles burnt, contorting painfully, with her anguish plain for all to hear.

 

_‘C’MON, REF, ANIMAL CRUELTY!’_

 

Adora thought maybe there was something to these submission holds after all, as the wriggling catgirl raked her claws through the mat in order to stave off the desire to tap out and be done with it. Catra’s cheek was hot against her shin, and she felt her hands clamping around her foot.

 

She-Ra lowered herself, all those squats paying off as Wildcat cried out from her torso being stretched further, but she still refused to give in. Her fingernails drilled deep into She-Ra’s ankles, who finally released her. Few would have been pleased with a submission hold victory, Adora knew, though Catra looked oddly satisfied as she rolled onto her back, with a messy mane and her legs still twitching.

 

“Phew, was that as good for you as it was for me?” She said as She-Ra got on top of her in an attempt to pin.

 

“You got problems, Cat.”

 

“You know it.”

 

Kyle counted to 2 and Wildcat kicked out.

 

They stood, slower, as the audience blasted them with incomprehensible volleys of sound. Guttural, high-pitched, long and snap-shot bursts of voices were thrown into the ring. Catra’s ears picked them up, flopping and twirling around like a satellite dish, always responsive to their pleading. From what she could make out, it was her turn.

 

“You’re smiling, Catra,” Adora noted. “Heels don’t smile.”

 

“They do when they’re about to bring the ruckus, princess. Now, suck in that gut for me.”

 

Wildcat sprang at She-Ra, who made a show of throwing a wide hook. Wildcat sidestepped it and took her hand, using the missed momentum to force her into a run towards the ropes.

 

On the rebound, Wildcat grabbed her waist and reached a hand around her back. She-Ra was lifted - with only the lightest jump step of her own to assist - and spun around Catra’s arms before falling into a devastating horizontal drop. Before she could hit the floor, Wildcat’s knee shot out and caught her spine.

 

 _‘THAT’S THE_ [ _TILT-A-WHIRL BACKBREAKER_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cxTpl5QmhXM) _! SHE’S GONNA FEEL THAT TOMORROW!’_

 

A cheer went up as the floor trembled from the heavy impact, sending a quake that shook the ropes. She-Ra flinched, arching her back and pounding the mat with her fist in anger, as Wildcat pranced around the ring with a satisfied smirk. Her eyes stayed on She-Ra and, seeing that she remained grounded, decided to get flashy.

 

Her prance turned into a stalk, and then a strut. Her feet on either side of She-Ra’s head, Wildcat looked down and saw Adora’s trusting blue eyes. She-Ra closed them and brought her limbs in tighter to her body.

 

Wildcat sniffed at the air, popping an eyebrow as she looked around at the audience, her hands open. She leaned down to sniff She-Ra, and quickly recoiled, waving a hand in front of her face. Her tongue stuck out and touched the tips of her fangs.

 

_‘CAN YOU SMELL WHAT WILDCAT’S COOKIN’?’_

 

She crisscrossed her arms back and forth, fingers pointing at the ropes, before picking one of the directions to follow. She ran, bounced off the side, and leaped over a flat She-Ra before ricocheting off the opposite ropes. Wildcat stopped short of the body, letting a stylish slide on the balls of her feet carry her the rest of the way, electrifying the crowd. She kicked out a leg extravagantly and let her elbow plummet down onto She-Ra’s chest.

 

 _‘_ [ _AHHHH! THE PEOPLE’S ELBOW!_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JVBalBcUWH0) _’_

 

Wildcat attempted a pin. The wrestlers’ found it hard to hear anything but each other’s breathing. Adora felt Catra’s heart thumping at her stomach.

 

_1_

 

“Nice one,” Adora said and found Catra beaming back at her.

 

_2_

 

“Catch me,” Catra said, and broke off into a sprint the second Adora kicked out.

 

She-Ra clambered up to pursue, but immediately found herself face-to-face with Wildcat, who had jumped back from the middle rope. She had backflipped and She-Ra got a glimpse of her sharp eyes, nervous and not entirely sure if she had given Adora enough time to react.

 

 _‘_ [ _LIONSAULT_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zsG0m_r87ys) _!’_

 

She-Ra caught her by the belly and readjusted her grip to her legs and chest. She pushed Wildcat up with fully outstretched arms, yelling as she presented her strength, and prize, to their fans.

 

“Alright,” Catra panted. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

 

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Adora said, and thought that this could be it.

 

Catra was tired. So was Adora, but she had the power right now. And if they didn’t run out of breath first, the audience would: both were so used to the deafening shouting that it had become static.

 

The flow from move to move was reaching its peak. A finale was inbound, natural, if Catra would just let a pinfall happen. Adora knew Catra would resent a submission victory, and, either way, believed Wildcat would rather cause major damage to herself than tap out.

 

She-Ra’s arms were burning, so she turned Wildcat upside down and parallel to herself, putting her head between her legs. Wildcat wrapped her arms around She-Ra’s waist to steady her imminent descent. A [ piledriver](https://youtu.be/p6OEOATjey0?t=113) nailed Wildcat’s head to the floor, and She-Ra fell back.

 

They sat with as many aches and pains as last week’s match, but not so much bad blood.

 

“You okay?” Adora asked.

 

Catra groaned, resting her head on her hands and looking at Adora out of the corner of her eye. She nodded.

 

“I’ve got one more in me, but then… I don’t know, Cat.”

 

Catra watched her rise, a shining beacon of endurance, and climb the turnbuckle.

 

 _Oh shit,_ Catra thought. _She’s doin’ it._

 

She-Ra took her time stepping between each rope and steadying herself as she reached the top. Her arms t-posed for balance, and she gradually turned to face Wildcat, who was beginning to get up.

 

_‘I DON’T LIKE THE LOOK OF THIS ONE BIT, FOLKS.’_

 

She-Ra dove, [eclipsing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=risEjNhUyUU&feature=youtu.be&t=147) the house lights with her mighty frame. She corkscrewed in the air and brought Wildcat’s head down over her shoulder. Their followers broke the sound barrier as Catra sold it to the audience like she’d never seen it before - they gave a collective gasp as she staggered from the meteoric headshot, stumbled backward, and collapsed.

 

It caused Kyle to squeeze her hand to check if she was okay, and she batted it away with disgust. She-Ra moved in to replace him and tried to pin. Catra quickly noticed how Adora was breathing through gritted teeth, her expression pained and face a sweltering red.

 

“Adora?” Fear in her gut.

 

_1_

 

“Sprained my ankle on the land, didn’t I?”

 

_2_

 

For a split second, Catra thought maybe she could accept a defeat. So relieved was she that it wasn’t serious, and so terrified of having to go on fighting a limping Adora.

 

Catra didn’t know if she had kicked out or not, as the entire arena went black, and the count stopped.

 

_‘UH-OH - ERM, TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES?’_

 

The audience’s cheering turned to boos, and, as the darkness lingered, eventually subsided into a confused, hushed discussion. The world was unmoving, a smoky atmosphere of dread replacing the oxygen in the room.

 

“Hey, Catra?” Adora whispered, a warm shape moving closer to where Catra’s head must have been. “What is this?”

 

“I have no idea,” Catra spoke softly back, hands roaming over Adora’s arms as the air went cold. “Catra promise.”

 

“I like it,” Adora muttered into Catra’s neck, finally alone - kinda. Her ankle felt like it was being pulled apart, but it was nothing compared to the beating in her chest. “I need it.”

 

Catra felt Adora breathing on her face now, steadily pushing closer. Adora was following the feline’s glowing eyes. They touched noses, Catra tilted her head slightly, and -

 

“Hey, do you guys know what’s going on?” Kyle’s voice, clear as day, broke the trance.

 

“SHUT UP, KYLE!” In unison.

 

The lights returned, a ghastly pure white, but only on the ring. They scrambled off each other. There was a second of complete silence. The audience was given very faint light along with their seats which faded in row by row. It was still an ocean of black compared to the stage, but they could at least see each others’ gaunt, distressed faces.

 

Then, a sharp, black hand with hooked fingers sprung forth from the center of the ring. It peeled a cavernous hole through. The long rip of fabric subdued all other noise and a scream pierced, shrill, through the darkness. It went still again, and the audience found themselves instinctively huddling together as shadows licked at them from beneath their chairs, and over the waist-high barriers that kept them herded into groups.

 

A deep, wholly demonic voice rumbled through the arena. It was the complete opposite of Sea Hawk’s, carrying no melody. The vibrations rocked the audience from their seats, coming at them from all sides. The waves of a steadily rising beat throbbed, a bubbling cauldron, as words were slowly spoken:

 

_In the first age, of the first break between all people, when the earth was first infected with blood, one stood._

 

_A sorceress of madness and hunger, a witch of sick temptation and darkest illusion._

 

_She chose the path of perpetual torment._

 

_Taking magic to its most hollowed depths, she found unholy power._

 

_The runestone writhed, as did its new host._

 

_She spread, a miasma, until there was nothing left but her unceasing presence._

 

_A herald for the ravenous void that awaits, an enduring shadow that outlives all._

 

_Her duty only to persist, reap suffering, and to tear at the confines of the mind until Etheria crumbles beneath its own weight._

 

_Those cursed to have felt the slithering touch of the Black Garnet named her:_

 

_Shadow Weaver._

 

A roar of [bass](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HwY6kIncUtM) accompanied Shadow Weaver’s ascension to the sky, isolated in a red, all-consuming glow that pushed ever-outwards. It twitched when it had surrounded her competitors, testing them, tasting them.

 

Adora saw no wires propping her up, and inhaled freezing air as the sorceress turned to face her. She wore a shawl and a midnight cloak that flowed lighter than air. A runic marking was etched in blood on the white shawl, and she pulled it off to face her old student with bloodshot, grossly dilated eyes. Adora hoped they were contacts.

 

“I missed you, Adora,” Her voice was liquid smooth, invading her recipients. She had no microphone but was touching everyone’s ears all the same. Her long black hair floated behind her.

 

Adora had only felt the touch of healing magic before, and it was nothing so evil as this. Though, what else was this, if not magic? Special effects couldn’t explain why her vision was clouding with false memories, why shadows were beginning to take her, and why her teacher’s voice was inside her head. Beatrix wasn’t a princess, Adora thought, had she really claimed one’s power?

 

“But I knew one day you would return to me,” Her lips cracked into a smile, and she tilted her head to let long black hair move out of her other eye. “My, how you have grown.”

 

Adora found herself jettisoned upwards by a geyser of shadow. Kyle fled the ring and Catra watched on, trying to figure out what was going on. Adora was pulled close to Shadow Weaver, who laid a hand across her head. Adora screamed and shuddered and went limp, her head sagging back to face Catra.

 

“And now, you will forget your time with the Princess Alliance, and be the merciless soldier I trained you to be. Every one of your mistakes, I will forgive. For each friend lost, I will replace, with loyal, obedient pets suitable for someone of your caliber.”

 

Her hand swept over to indicate Wildcat, who couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This _had_ to be a bluff. [Kayfabe](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kayfabe) for a new storyline. But would the Princess Alliance have agreed to such a change? Adora would have told her. There was no way this could really be happening.

 

The audience was too scared to protest, to shout, to cry. Just as Adora and Catra felt empowered by cheers, Shadow Weaver fed off fear. The comforting exclamations of Sea Hawk were nowhere to be found, and it felt like they were in a darker universe, another world, with consequences far more disastrous than they ever signed up for.

 

Adora started shrieking again as red lighting made rivers through her body. Black strands of nothingness constricting her limbs took great, sadistic pleasure in molding her body like a marionette.

 

Catra knew whose side she was on.

 

If this display was real - Adora’s memories were her own, even if they didn’t include her much anymore. If it wasn’t, well, Beatrix was a shitty person, and the genuine terror and hurt in Adora’s eyes was more than enough to get Wildcat to pounce.

 

Adora stopped screaming and the shadows evaporated as Shadow Weaver was brought to earth like a comet, clocked with a high-flying [phenomenal forearm](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RINA5SNKt5g) that was launched from the ropes. It broke the spell and, Catra hoped, knocked a few teeth loose. Shadow Weaver’s infuriated howl caused the audience to find their feet, and voices, like the Horde Mercs’ lives depended on it.

 

_‘EAT SHIT, SHADOW WEAVER!’_

 

Sea Hawk yelled triumphantly. The crowd followed in his wake, chanting ‘eat shit’ and, with renewed confidence, sounded out, ‘CAT -- RA - _(clap-clap-clap)_ \- DOR -- RA.’

 

Catra helped Adora to her feet, who winced as she put all her weight on her left foot and held the feline’s shoulder for support. Catra’s eyes were big and scared.

 

“Adora! You remember… everything, right? Like, how you’re...”

 

All eyes on them, their voices seemed magnified by the magic focused on the ring.

 

Reluctantly, she continued, “...A princess?”

 

A toothy grin broke through the pain as Adora spoke.

 

“Your princess? Or just, like, She-Ra?”

 

Catra wanted to let her fall, but her arms acted on their own, drawing her into a tight, relieved hug that made the audience clap. They didn’t get to enjoy it for long, as applause turned to fearful yells.

 

Shadow Weaver rose and faced them, the malice of a bitter, hundred-year-old witch written on her grotesque face.

 

“ _AND_ _YOU_ ,” Shadow Weaver’s voice was bloodlust, sheer anger, and it bore into Catra’s brain. “ _YOU ARE TO BLAME FOR THIS IMPETUOUS REBELLION. I KNEW YOU WOULD BE TROUBLE FROM THE DAY YOU SOUGHT TO INGRATIATE YOURSELF WITH HER.”_

 

“Hey, I’d love to take credit but… nah. She was just too smart to stick around.”

 

Shadow Weaver split into multiple copies of herself, and of those Catra and Adora knew. Flickering, hazy clone wrestlers rushed them. The lights began to pulsate and the bassy music thrummed. Scorpia slapped her bicep and led the charge, with Glimmer teleporting from turnbuckle to turnbuckle. Rogelio - The Reptile - slinked in between manifestations of Shadow Weaver, tail poised and ready to strangle.

 

_‘ROYAAAAAAAAAAAAL RUMBLE!’_

 

Adora and Catra went back to back, surrounded by friends and foes alike.

 

“You gonna be okay with that ankle?” Wildcat asked, watching the illusions surround them.

 

“As long as I don’t have to move much. You set them up…”

 

Wildcat nudged She-Ra and pointed to their first target.

 

Force Captain Scorpia ran at them with a claw primed to roll heads. Wildcat ducked, and She-Ra caught it. It pushed her back, searing her ankle, but she held on with an anguished scream. Scorpia managed a shocked expression as Wildcat suddenly climbed onto her back. Her arms were around the arthropod, keeping her claws up and core exposed in a standing full-nelson.

 

Scorpia was open for business, and She-Ra tore into her body with a barrage of punches. Left-right-left, sidestepped - completely unnecessary, but stylish - right-left-left, and finished with a right haymaker that dissipated her into a cloud of smoke. It felt good not to hold back.

 

Wildcat landed on her feet, and saw Glimmer ten feet in the air above them, about to drop on an unsuspecting Adora. Wildcat pushed her away, and Glimmer landed on her instead, a very real elbow across the shoulder that knocked her down.

 

Wildcat stabbed claws directly at her eyes, but she disappeared in a sparkle of pink, appearing in the same spot, ten feet above once again, poised for a leg drop over Wildcat. She rolled away and dug nails into her neck at the moment she landed. The shadow yelped in an alarmingly realistic way and became unable to teleport.

 

Wildcat went for a bite but was interrupted by a boot across her cheek from an illusory Shadow Weaver. Another joined the fray and the two started stomping her upper body. It was ridiculous to think Shadow Weaver was wearing heels under that robe, but stilettos poked into her arms all the same, and when Catra really thought about it…? It made sense.

 

She-Ra, meanwhile, was swept away by Rogelio, who had coiled his tail around her neck and had dragged her closer to the turnbuckle. She bit down on the green tail and forced a roar from the reptile. He released her, which was his last mistake as a temporary illusion in an unforgiving world.

 

She took his balance with a forceful pull of his legs and pressed her advantage with a [crossface](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTTh0hYT1Vg) submission hold. She stretched his neck, trying her hardest to rip his head off. He chomped down on the hands that were pulling his head back, but his teeth didn’t penetrate her skin.

 

That was part of her magic, Adora supposed. It hurt - Etheria, did it hurt - but it couldn’t break the skin barrier. It was pain and pain only, nerves in her brain being forced to tell her how awful this was, without the bloody result of lost fingers.

 

She-Ra stopped pulling and quickly leaned in, cheek to cheek with the illusionary lizard man. She wrapped her arm around his neck and tensed her bicep alongside a snap of the arm, cracking the neck and poofing him out of existence.

 

She-Ra saw Wildcat struggling against bullshit opponents that could be even faster than her. She ran towards them until Shadow Weaver stopped her with an open palm that kept her frozen in place. This one was the real deal.

 

“Adora, why do you resist?” Beatrix always got too close. “Is it not what you want, to be with her again?”

 

She turned Adora to face her partner, who had caught one of the legs attacking her and twisted it to the ground, powering through the pain as she got angrier. The heels kept coming, even as she finished off a shadow with a fatal claw-lunge to the chest. Glimmer yanked her hair back and dragged her away from the last clone. Before Catra could whirl around into a counter, the princess disappeared in a cloud of glitter, leaving Wildcat to punch the turnbuckle.

 

“It’s certainly what these idiots want,” Beatrix continued, motioning her head at the audience.

 

“You don’t give the crowd what they want,” Adora's voice was strained. “You make ‘em fight for it. That’s all this is, isn’t it? A magic show to slow us down.”

 

“I merely want to tell your story for you, Adora. Since you insist on trying to be someone else.”

 

“You always were crazy. You know wrestling’s fake, yeah?”

 

“Is it?”

 

Shadow Weaver grabbed She-Ra’s neck in two hands, sliding thumbs along her throat.

 

“Are these struggles not your own?”

 

She lifted her, keeping Adora’s weight suspended with the help of magical force while sharp fingers dug into her skin.

 

“Your hopes and fears made a spectacle, burning ever brighter in the limelight of global adoration? But the shadows you two cast are far greater than you ever could have expected, aren’t they, Adora? They are shadows that you will never escape.”

 

Shadow Weaver threw her down to the mat in a [chokebomb](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MefsbHLz9jc) and fell with her, hands still pressed into her neck. Adora found herself paralyzed once more by a stabbing current of blood-red electricity. Beatrix’s eyes were wide and viciously starved for her.

 

“Return to me, my child.”

 

Adora thrashed with all of her and She-Ra’s strength, but her body didn’t move. A hand lay across her forehead, sapping her willpower and threatening her very identity.

 

“Adora!” Catra yelled, but it was muffled by a mass of limbs keeping her at bay. More and more clones dogpiled her. She snapped at them, but they simply reformed, swallowing her in their numbers.

 

Adora’s mind raced for an answer. All her reasons to fight were fading, and that made her sick. She was terrified, which wasn’t helped by the ghoulish eyes ripping apart her soul.

 

 _Oh god, no, no, She-Ra, She-Ra, She-Ra,_ Adora reminded herself. _She-Ra, Adora, Wildcat, Catra._

 

What would Wildcat do? The same things Catra would do. Illegal eye pokes, nut-shots for the boys, she’d smash a chair on the floor while the ref wasn’t looking and then pass it to Adora - having feigned being hit by it and getting Adora disqualified in the process, smiling at the camera all the while. None of that would work now. She’d talk a lot of shit, she’d bite, she’d -

 

Adora spat into Beatrix’s eye. The witch’s head recoiled, losing her magical control for a second.

 

“ _YOU WRETCHED W - ”_

 

Adora punched her in the face, and blood fell from her nose. Before she could stumble back too far, Adora put her free hand behind her head, keeping her as close as she always insisted on being, which allowed She-Ra to hammer her skull over and over again.

 

Adora felt ill when she heard something crack, lost in her fury and forgetting that her blows were as real as Beatrix. It turned to relief, and then confusion, as the source - slivers of red stone - fell from a band that had been tucked underneath her long hair. Beatrix held it, dazed, and collapsed. The band had been meant to keep her shawl in place before she pulled it off, but Adora understood what purpose it really served: the concealment of a runestone.

 

The fragments went colorless as they hit the floor, and suddenly it wasn’t so cold. The shadows harassing Catra and the audience were gone, and the air was no longer heavy. Adora - She-Ra - could think clearly, move, and feel the pain in her ankle flare up again.

 

Catra joined her, messy with pulled hair and hard eyes, and the two looked down on their teacher. The crowd started to find themselves again, feeling collectively lost, but encouraged by the sight of their favorites standing side-by-side.

 

 _‘I - I - ’_ Sea Hawk began, voice quavering before he cleared his throat and found his spirit. _‘THE SORCERESS IS VANQUISHED, SWEET ETHERIA! JOIN ME IN GIVING YOUR THANKS TO OUR HEROINES!’_

 

The cheering rose to greater heights than Catra and Adora had ever known. It was endless, indiscernible, sheer joy. And it made them feel like they had actually saved the world. Adora’s hand brushed Catra’s and, to her surprise, she took it.

 

“You’re welcome,” Beatrix seethed. She wiped the blood from her nose across her face and lifted it to regard them, and the cameras. “But only one of you will walk away champion. Now get on with it.”

 

Adora squeezed Catra’s hand tighter, causing the feline to look at her. They began stuttering over each other.

 

“You go first,” Catra said, eyes darting to Adora’s, the fans, Shadow Weaver, and down to their hands.

 

“Catra, does this change anything?”

 

“Like, can I come to Bright Moon?” Catra smiled sadly. “No, I can’t. Especially not now. That runestone is, was, Scorpia’s. She must have given it to them. I mean, you know how nice she is. I don’t want them taking advantage of her, and they won’t... if I’m here.”

 

“You’re such a sweetheart…” Adora beamed and took Catra’s other hand, who muttered a half-hearted ‘shut up’. “Yeah, I’ll talk to Angella about this magic. Only Bright Moon has the capabilities to host magic wrestlers, this was just _messed up_.”

 

Catra nodded, “So, who gets the win?”

 

Adora shuffled uncomfortably on her feet, nearly losing her balance on her sprained ankle if not for Catra’s grip.

 

“Angella told me Hordak would let me have it.”

 

“Hordak’s not here,” Catra lost her smile for a second.

 

“Probably waiting to see how this plays out.”

 

Catra sighed, “If you want it…”

 

“No! I’m the one who busted my ankle. And you saved me, you deserve it.”

 

“We save each other, that’s what we do,” Catra rubbed her fingers over Adora’s hands, and then withdrew. “Tell you what. I’ll take the belt, you can have the tiara.”

 

The pain in Adora’s ankle was fading, replaced by an enthusiasm that made her want to jump. Could they rewrite the destinies of She-Ra and Wildcat so easily?

 

“That’s probably against the rules,” Adora smirked.

 

“Fuck the rules. We run this shit. Watch this.”

 

Wildcat grabbed Shadow Weaver by the hair and lifted her up, and the crowd ignited once more. She threw her into the ropes, but Beatrix didn’t bounce. Wildcat kicked her leg from under her and she fell flat on her back, cursing the birth and existence of her attacker.

 

“Think you can get her on your shoulders?” Catra poked Adora.

 

“Okay, maybe be careful, though. She’s like sixty or whatever,” Adora, the firm voice of justice, reminded.

 

She-Ra pulled Shadow Weaver to her feet. She slapped the princess for her lack of etiquette, and She-Ra resisted the urge to knock her out. She launched Shadow Weaver up onto her shoulders, forward-facing, and approached the turnbuckle that Wildcat had scaled.

 

Wildcat held her arms out, sucked in praise, and pointed to She-Ra. Holding her heart, Wildcat encouraged more love to go the princess’ way, cycling through all manner of dramatic facial expressions in order to convey her adoration. Adora wished she would get on with it, as her ankle was killing her, but she loved to watch Catra work.

 

The [doomsday device](https://youtu.be/JWKSmPO3p4M?t=161) set, Wildcat set it off with a missile dropkick that blasted Shadow Weaver from She-Ra’s shoulders. The witch flew back, landed on the mat, and slid to the ropes, utterly defeated. She-Ra twisted her body and pressed her weight down onto to one knee in order to catch Wildcat. Catra fell into large safe arms and looked up to see Adora attack her with a big grin.

 

“Why are you like this?” Catra said, but was thoroughly enjoying her seat; laying her head back and crossing her legs.

 

“Because you love it.”

 

The audience cheered and whistled and jumped on their feet. They were an ocean of bobbing heads, waves of noise crashing on them from all sides. It was over.

 

Catra told Kyle how it was going to be. He didn’t protest: overworked, underpaid, and scared of her. She made him retrieve the tiara from the security guard who had reclaimed it from the fans earlier and put it on Adora. Catra picked up the belt she had discarded and put it on to thunderous applause. Beatrix was carted away on a stretcher, which Adora thought was a little dramatic, but that’s just how she was.

 

Kyle raised both their arms and handed them two mics after the rapturous hollering had died down. Catra really didn’t have the breath for a post-match dialogue, and she knew Adora needed to sit down.

 

Instead, she thought, maybe just this once, she’d give the audience what they wanted. What she knew Adora wanted and what she had always hated wanting, until now.

 

“Hey, Adora,” Her voice reverberated, and she dropped the mic as soon as the blonde turned her head to catch her in a kiss.

 

The arena roared, a hungry beast finally satisfied. Adora matched Catra’s smile and swept a hand over her freckled cheek, light as a breeze. A second of pure peace and tenderness. Adora tasted warmth as well as the hint of a split lip. As she tried to press her tongue to it, Catra withdrew.

 

Wildcat left her wanting, darting out of the ring and up the entrance ramp. She stopped and turned around half-way, her hands resting on her hips, tail swaying widely.

 

Always chasing after her, Adora thought, with no plan what she was going to do if she ever caught up.

 

She-Ra gave solemn, honorable bows to the four corners of the arena. She then pointed at Wildcat and blew a kiss. Wildcat swatted it away and disappeared with a wink around the corner. She-Ra followed, determined to land her retaliatory smooch somewhere the fans couldn’t see.

 

_‘AND THERE WE HAVE IT. AN OUTCOME TO OUTRAGE THE BOOKKEEPERS AND INSPIRE ROMANTICS EVERYWHERE. HOW WILL THE HEADS TAKE THIS, THE OTHER PRINCESSES, AND HORDE SOLDIERS? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN FOR THE FUTURE OF WRESTLING? ONLY TIME WILL TELL. I HAVE BEEN THE ONE AND ONLY SEA HAWK, AND YOU, MY FRIENDS, HAVE BEEN A WONDERFUL AUDIENCE!’_


	5. Epilogue

“Yes, she was… out of line. I didn’t anticipate her making it so personal, which was foolish of me.”

 

It took Hordak some time to find them. Adora and Catra had retreated to the Fright Zone stadium’s locker room, had an unforgettable shower, and were sat on a paltry metal excuse for a bench when he entered with a hand covering his eyes, calling out to them. They contemplated staying quiet and letting him leave, but he had things they wanted to know, and they knew he’d catch up with them sooner or later.

 

Hordak didn’t look angry, but then again, he never did. Tonight’s match had done even better than when Wildcat had stolen the title from She-Ra. He was hiring more performers than ever and plotting how a split championship could work better than a solo one. He couldn’t fault their performances, but he could assuage their fears.

 

“Your memories were never at risk, Adora, you should know that. Scorpia has assured me it requires the sheer unrestricted power of the Black Garnet - which I promise you remains secure - to accomplish such a feat. Not a mere conduit stone.”

 

Adora wasn’t fully convinced, even if wiping her mind would’ve caused more problems than it was worth for Hordak with the Princess Alliance. There was every possibility Beatrix had gone mad, and Adora wanted Catra kept safe from her.

 

“We only wanted to kick up the special effects, have you levitate a little - wires would make you look so [ stiff](https://youtu.be/qxE1_V_YifE?t=19), you know?” He went on.

 

“Angella will know about this,” Adora spoke firmly.

 

“I’m sure she already does; we weren’t exactly subtle in our introduction of the Black Garnet to the story. Though, if you would also be so kind as to tell her this was your desired outcome, yes? I did promise her, after all, that you would walk away the victor, and that remains only partially true.”

 

“Yeah, thanks for telling _me_ that,” Catra glared at him.

 

“My apologies, Catra, but I wanted to see how far you would take it. And that, too, is why Beatrix was there: to ensure a disruption, had you gone too far. Break your pins, test your character’s loyalties. When it became evident you were going to have a fair fight, I decided to heat things up.”

 

Adora and Catra were tired of listening to him, and let silence take hold of the room. He continued.

 

“One last thing, which I’m sure will be of interest to you both: tag-teams are at the forefront for the upcoming season, and I’m sure it was made clear out there that the fans want to see you two together. We can’t resolve Wildcat and She-Ra’s conflict, but we can give them an enemy to unite against.”

 

“Who?” Catra legs started bouncing with excitement.

 

“Very few would be strong or stupid enough to go up against you two, so there’s only one other person besides Beatrix. That is to say, myself.”

 

Hordak smiled and put up his dukes, rolling them around like an old-timey prizefighter and throwing out a few punches. Catra and Adora raised an eyebrow at each other.

 

“Lord Hordak finally steps out of the shadows. I’m thinking a semi-robotic alien noble of sorts, unearthed from his own time and taking charge of a whole new war against Etheria. Thoughts?”

 

If it allowed them to spend more time together, they were down.

 

“I like it,” Adora said, taken by the thought of _accidentally_ toppling Hordak with a real uppercut somewhere in the future.

 

“Yeah, sounds cool,” Catra thought he was a nerd.

 

“Excellent! With that, I’ll leave you to it. Catra, I’ll call you when I’ve got something. Adora, my best wishes and warmest regards to you and Angella. Ladies, the industry stands on the precipice of even greater beginnings thanks to you. Never forget that!”

 

When he had said his goodbyes and left, there was a shared sigh of relief.

 

“He’s really stuck at 100, like, all the time,” Catra said and flipped her leg over the bench to face Adora.

 

They were in regular clothes, which were more alien to them than spandex and princess garb. Adora wore a stretchy beige jumper with some washed out blue jeans, while Catra was curiously formal in a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a tawny belt that kept her slim brown trousers up.

 

“He hasn’t changed a bit,” Adora matched her movements and offered Catra one of her hands.

 

Catra took it and stroked a thumb over Adora’s scarred knuckles. Neither of them wanted to leave the locker room. Being touchy with one another came as natural as breathing when Catra was open to it. The result of their careers, Adora assumed. Constant contact invariably led to rest holds that lingered a little too long to be quick breathers, and that led to… this.

 

“After all that, not a drop of blood,” Adora brushed Catra’s hair aside, checking for red, and found only bruises.

 

“Told you we were trained,” Catra leaned into the hand and plopped her head on Adora’s shoulder, speaking into her neck, low and soothing. Adora curled her arms around her. “Can you get Angella to invite me out there? Think I’ve earned a meeting yet?”

 

“You just wanna hang out.”

 

“No shit, Adora? It’s like I like you or something.”

 

Adora ran her nose through Catra’s mane, breathing in freshly washed hair instead of sweat, for once. Catra brushed her lips over Adora’s neck, who nearly crumbled at the feeling of warm breath softening her. She shivered and sighed, content, holding Catra tighter.

 

“It’s like you’re my whole world,” Catra said, raising her head just enough to meet blue eyes, but have her mouth remain hidden under Adora’s chin.

 

“I’m sorry I left,” Adora blurted, conquered by big mismatched eyes. “I should’ve said more or kept in contact or visited b- ”

 

“No, shut up,” Catra came face to face with her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t let it go. I was selfish. You’re a person, too, not just something to keep me going. But you do, you know? You keep me hanging on when everything hurts and losing that was…”

 

Catra stopped talking and Adora held her. Calming silence, save for a few shaky breaths that were snuffed out by Adora’s hand stroking the back of her fuzzy head.

 

“Catra,” Adora began, slowly drawing away from her, regarding her with serious eyes.

 

“Do you even realize how beautiful you are when you’re up there, strutting your stuff, holding the crowd in the palm of your hand? You’re the one who makes me feel strong enough to be She-Ra. ”

 

Catra made a face like she’d heard it all before and still wanted to hear more. Her eyes grew more tender; curious, attentive, and hopeful as Adora moved her head closer again.

 

“I love you,” Adora said, as gentle as her lips.

 

Catra closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her. The warmth, the lightest pressure on her mouth, her nose meeting Adora’s, and a faint, happy hum that bounced between them.

 

Catra’s eyes were still shut when Adora pulled away. When she raised them, it was slow, like she had just woken up from a thousand-year slumber. Catra felt radiant.

 

“It doesn’t count until you say it back, babe,” Adora took a hold of her cheeks and squished them in circles.

 

“Is that how it works?” Catra spoke, muffled by hands. “Fine, love you, _She-Ra_.”

 

Catra swatted the hands away and watched Adora laugh, feeling her heart soar higher and higher. Catra never believed she’d have Adora back, not least because of her own resistance, borne out of a rage that flourished every time she was up against her. Now that she did, she was determined to make up for the lost time. Adora was just as keen.

 

“Y’know, I don’t have to head back to Bright Moon straight away,” Adora said, hoping that Angella would be satisfied with a text.

 

“OH! You can crash at my place!”

 

“You have a place?” Adora didn’t know why she was surprised, but she just couldn’t visualize it. “I thought Wildcat slept in alleyways and fed on barn mice.”

 

“ _ONCE._ And hey, don’t knock it till you try it, _”_ Catra watched Adora recoil in horror and was pleased. “Speaking of, I guess those dinner reservations you mentioned out there… weren’t real, were they?”

 

Adora looked at Catra, smartly dressed, ready to be wined and dined, and felt _awful_.

 

“No, baby, I’m sorry.”

 

“Good!” Catra didn’t hesitate. “‘Cos the Fright Zone got its first Eternian-Star restaurant and I need an excuse.”

 

Adora felt _GREAT_ , despite the lack of appropriate attire she had brought with her. Dress codes hadn’t existed in the Fright Zone Adora knew, and she couldn’t imagine it had changed _that_ much. If it came down to it, Adora trusted that their fame or Catra’s silver tongue would get them a nice table.

  
  


* * *

 

 

 

Adora’s feeling of homesickness returned on the walk there, as she gazed at renovated streets and roads. She couldn’t tell whether it was for Bright Moon or the Fright Zone she used to know when it was simple and young. Perhaps it was both, and the sadness in her stomach was the feeling of being lost, torn between the two.

 

Catra held her hand, and just like that Etheria felt small enough to conquer between them. Catra was her home, and she could explore the rest of the world at their leisure after they had their fill of fancy food. The feline presented the restaurant proudly, with a wave of the hand and a bow.

 

Despite being named after a wrestling move, _‘Le Gutbuster’_ looked like the bill would set back Adora’s proposal plans by a few months. Platinum lettering on a marble front suggested that Angella had probably eaten here before. Adora was frightened to learn it was all-you-can-eat.

 

Led to private seats, they sat down together in a cozy corner that overlooked the kitchen.

 

Adora watched Catra, who was enamored with a fish tank, and smiled.

 

Catra saw Adora in her periphery and fiddled nervously with the expensive rock under the table. She wondered what Adora saw in the whole concept, whether it was the right time, whether Adora would say yes. She imagined Adora’s face and nearly lost control. Keeping the ring hidden, she waited to see how the food was first.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! It was not supposed to be this big but I just couldn't stop playing around with it. Please tell me what you think!! Based on an OLD Tumblr post - https://hemogobbler69.tumblr.com/post/181923867495/catradora-wrestling-au - which I have at last honored.
> 
> Remember kids: don't try this at home! The lesbians depicted in this story are trained professionals, are you??


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